In Need of Healing
by spnh50ghfan
Summary: "Sam walked his older brother into the motel room, supporting most of Dean's weight. Dean was shaky at best and his knees finally buckled as they approached the bed. Sam clenched his jaw in anger as he looked at his normally arrogant, smartass older brother's ashen face and haunted eyes." The brothers help each other heal. Will be a long story. Dean is deaf.
1. Chapter 1

This is going to be a long story - it's already over 100 pages in Word. Will bring in more characters/storylines as the story progresses. I've been writing this one for awhile and decided it was time to publish. I'm leaving tonight for vacation, but provided I can get WiFi, I will update throughout the week.

What you should know:

*Dean is deaf. As expected, he handles it like a badass. The situation will be explained further in later chapters.

*This takes place around the end of Season 4. Sam isn't addicted to demon blood and Ruby is irrelevant. I didn't stick too closely to canon, so don't look too closely.

*I'll try to further clarify things as we go.

CHAPTER 1

Sam walked his older brother into the motel room, supporting most of Dean's weight. Dean was shaky at best and his knees finally buckled as they approached the bed. Sam slowly lowered him down and kept a hand on Dean's shoulder since he looked as though he may fall over at any moment.

Sam clenched his jaw in anger as he looked at his normally arrogant, smartass older brother's ashen face and haunted eyes. The sons of bitches who did this…

He forced himself to focus on Dean, releasing him long enough to kneel and pull off Dean's boots. He left on the socks since Dean was shivering. Dean's eyes drooped closed and Sam realized that he was probably going into shock.

"Dean," he said softly as he squeezed his brother's arm gently. Dean's eyes opened but remained fixed on the floor. "Dean," he tried again as he moved his hand to Dean's cheek. Slowly, Dean's eyes moved up to Sam's face.

"You need to stay awake for a little while, okay?" Sam signed the words, figuring that lip reading might be more than Dean could handle right then.

It took Dean a moment longer to process than normal, but he finally nodded slightly. He was dying to lie down, to sleep, to force away all that had happened, but Sam said to stay awake. Sam was the only thing that made sense, the only thing he could really trust. He felt lost, his mind jumbled and fuzzy. Sammy was his anchor and Dean clung to him.

Sam stood and attempted to move away but Dean had a grip on him. Sam took his arm gently, careful of the wounds on his wrist. After making sure his brother was looking at him, he spoke and signed at the same time. "Dean, it's okay. I'm not leaving you; I just need to get some stuff to clean you up, okay?"

After a moment of processing, Dean released Sam's shirt and his hand fell limply in his lap. Sam quickly grabbed the washcloths and wet them before picking up the first aid kit and returning to the bed Dean was seated on. Dean was watching every move, so Sam tried to keep it together.

"Hey man, you doing okay?" Sam asked gently. He knew it was a stupid question; of course he wasn't okay, but he needed to keep Dean focused on him. He had to get him cleaned up and make sure he wasn't going to go into shock. He opened a bottle of water and coaxed Dean to take a few sips. He knew that his brother was dehydrated on top of the physical and emotional trauma he had endured.

"Can you help me with your shirt? We need to get you cleaned up."

Dean didn't move, so Sam started undoing the buttons of the flannel shirt Dean was wearing – Sam's flannel. Dean's mind clicked after a few seconds and he weakly helped Sam remove the shirt, then his jeans. Sam began to inventory Dean's injuries, noting the contusions on most of his body and cuts on his chest, arms and face, not to mention the wounds on his wrists. Sam worked to clean the cuts quickly and he palpated the worst of the bruises to check for broken bones. Dean wasn't responding to any pain and his body had begun to tremble.

"Shit, Dean. We'll have to check you again later. You're going into shock," Sam said as he moved the first aid supplies and pulled back the covers on Dean's bed. He guided Dean to lie down and tucked the blankets in around him. Grabbing his wallet, he dashed to the drink machine to get some Gatorade. He returned to the room and slipped off his own boots before settling himself next to his brother.

He helped Dean take a few sips of Gatorade and returned the bottle to the table. Dean's eyes had slipped closed and Sam placed a hand on his shoulder. After a moment, Dean opened his eyes.

"Dean," he said before signing, "I know you're tired, but before you go to sleep I have to make sure you don't have a concussion. Did you hit your head?"

Dean blinked a few times, but he didn't seem to comprehend the question.

"Does your head hurt?" Sam tried again. Dean nodded. "Did you hit your head, Dean?"

Dean licked his lips as he tried to think. "Don't know," he rasped out, swallowing hard as his dry throat burned.

"Sounds like it's possible then," Sam said mostly to himself. "Look at me, Dean," he signed as his brother seemed to be close to drifting off again.

Dean obeyed, straining to keep his eyes open and his mind from slipping into unconsciousness. Sam said to stay awake, so he had to.

Sam looked in Dean's eyes, relieved to see his pupils equal and reactive, though a bit on the small side. Definitely going into shock. That didn't completely rule out a concussion, but it meant that it was okay for Dean to go to sleep.

"Alright, man, almost done. Are you hurting anywhere?" Sam asked as he pointed his index fingers toward each other and tapped them twice. Dean nodded. "Where?"

"Everywhere," Dean answered hoarsely.

Sam closed his eyes, taking a moment to gather himself. "Okay," he said, rising from the bed. "Here's some medicine. I can't give you the good stuff until I finish checking you out, but this should help. Try to get some rest and we'll go from there."

Dean nodded as Sam placed two pills in his mouth and offered the bottle. As soon as the pills were down, Dean was out. Sam tucked the blankets around Dean's trembling form before settling himself against the headboard. He rubbed his hands over his face wearily, remembering the state he had found Dean in. His brother had been missing for almost three days, having gone out for breakfast two mornings ago but not returning to the motel.

Earlier

After a couple of hours and unanswered text messages, Sam was frantic. He searched everywhere he knew to look, finding the Impala abandoned on the side of the road across town. He noted that the spare tire had been put on, the lug wrench discarded nearby. Dean must have been grabbed while he was changing the tire. The keys were in the ignition, so Sam took off in search of his brother.

It wasn't until much later that he finally caught a break. Two days later he received a call that Dean's phone had been turned back on and the cell phone company was able to trace it using GPS.

Sam raced to the location, reminding himself that it may just be Dean's phone, not Dean, that he found. He parked the Impala down the block from the house he was headed for so as not to tip anyone off. He checked his Taurus, ensuring it was loaded and ready. He didn't know what he may be up against or if it may be supernatural, so he also loaded the sawed-off shotgun with salt rounds and stuck the demon-killing knife in his belt. Feeling prepared, he quietly approached the house that the cell phone company had referred him to. Dark was falling and Sam crept through the brush as he peered in the windows. He worked his way around the house, entering the garage silently.

Through the window in the door he saw a man enter the kitchen. He put a plate in the microwave, set the timer, and left the room. Sam, seeing a plan forming, grabbed a roll of duct tape from the pegboard wall before letting himself into the house soundlessly. He knew that within seconds the guy would return to retrieve his meal. He placed the roll of tape on the table and pulled out his gun. He moved into position. The microwave beeped and footsteps approached the kitchen. As soon as the man stepped through the doorway, Sam grabbed him from behind, locking him in a chokehold and pressing the barrel of the gun into his side.

"Not a sound," Sam hissed, tightening his hold. "I will drop you right here, understand?"

The guy nodded frantically, his face red as he gasped for air. He pulled uselessly at Sam's arm, trying to loosen the grip on his airway.

"Who else is here?" Sam demanded in a quiet voice. "How many more?"

"Just…one," the man choked out. "Bedroom…sleeping."

Sam loosened his grip slightly. "You better be telling me the truth." He shoved the man into one of the kitchen chairs. He quickly ripped off a piece of tape, slapping it over the man's mouth before pinning his arms securely behind him with another. He taped the guy's ankles to the chair legs before standing back up.

"I will ask you one more time," Sam warned as he pressed the gun to the man's neck. "Are there any more of you here?"

The man shook his head emphatically and sighed when Sam removed the gun. "And how about your captive? Where can I find him?" Sam spat out venomously.

The man closed his eyes in defeat, realizing that they were busted. Sam clenched his jaw in anger before leaving the room in search of the other man.

He crept through the hallways, not taking any chances. He cleared the living room, basement, and one bedroom before approaching another door. He wrapped his hand around the knob and slowly turned it to release the latch. When the door swung open, Sam's heart clenched at what he found.

"Oh my – " he muttered.

His brother was lying curled up on the floor. If not for the very subtle rise and fall of his chest, Sam would be sure he was dead. The setting sun shone through the window, giving Sam a limited view of his brother's battered body. His shirt had been removed and his skin was pale – at least the part not covered in bruises - and he was so still. It was dark in the room, but Sam could tell that Dean's hands were tied behind him. He wanted so badly to run to his brother's side, but he knew he had to secure the other attacker before he could.

"Dean," he gasped softly as he checked the hallway. He didn't want the other guy to sneak up on him. "Dean, I know you can't hear me, but I'll be right back. I promise."

Swallowing hard, Sam forced himself away from Dean. He went to the bedroom at the end of the hall, and once he had secured the second attacker in the kitchen with his buddy and cleared the rest of the house, he returned to help Dean. He put the safety on the Taurus and returned it to the waistband of his jeans before approaching Dean. He sank to his knees beside his brother and his stomach churned as his eyes swept over the still form.

"Shit," he cursed. Dean's torso was covered with cuts and bruises, some obviously fresh. Sam's eyes drifted to his brother's face and the urge to kill the men in the kitchen grew. A piece of cloth had been tied over Dean's eyes and another had been forced into his mouth and tied painfully tight. He had cuts on his arms and face, and his wrists were bound savagely with a thick black zip tie. He cringed when he saw the reddish-purple tinge to Dean's hands where the circulation had been cut off. His ankles had received the same treatment, though his socks had been left on as a barrier, so they seemed to be in better shape.

Despite the fact that his brother couldn't hear him, Sam spoke softly. "Dean, I'm here. Everything's going to be okay; I'm getting you out of here." He gently placed his hand on Dean's arm, noting the chill of his skin, before he began to remove the bonds. He started by removing the gag and blindfold then cut through the zip ties. Once his brother was free, Sam ran his hands through his hair. Dean looked awful. He was pale and clammy, his skin was varying shades of blue and purple punctuated by angry red lacerations, and he was unconscious. Sam checked his head for any signs of injury and breathed a sigh of relief when he didn't find as much as a bump. Sam pulled off his jacket before removing his flannel shirt and working it onto his brother's limp body. His hands shook as he fastened the buttons.

"Dean," he called as he tried to rouse his brother. When Dean didn't move or react, Sam scooped him up and headed for the Impala. He realized as he hauled his fully grown brother that he should have pulled the car up closer, but he couldn't bear the idea of leaving Dean in that house another moment. When he reached the car, he pulled open the door and gently placed his brother in the backseat. He draped his jacket across Dean's upper body before climbing into the driver's seat. Sam put the car in gear, but rather than head for the motel, he returned to the house. The guys who did this had to be dealt with.

As the car slowed to a stop in the driveway, Dean roused.

"S'mmy?" he rasped, his voice no louder than a whisper. Sam turned around in the seat. He pushed up the too-long sleeve of the flannel and took his brother's hand. Dean's eyes cracked open as he sought his brother's face.

"I'm here," he assured Dean. Dean's eyes struggled to stay open but he gripped Sam's hand tightly. "You're safe now. We're in the Impala and we're going to go to the motel, but I have to take care of something. Will you be okay, Dean?"

Dean didn't answer and continued to squeeze Sam's hand.

"Dean, I need to go deal with something. I'll be right back," Sam said gently. "You'll be safe here, I promise."

After a few seconds of consideration, Dean released Sam's hand and closed his eyes. Sam locked the car doors, placing the keys in his pocket before he approached the house once again. He entered the kitchen to find the captives/attackers struggling against their bonds to no avail.

"Alright," he said, pulling out his gun once again. He loaded a round in the chamber and removed the safety. "Who wants to go first?"

Both men looked at him in sheer terror. "What, you honestly want me to believe you're _scared?_ Well, let me tell you something. You should be. You snatched my brother, beat the shit out of him, and kept him tied up in this godforsaken place for nearly 3 days. Who the hell knows what else you did to him, or would have done to him, had I not found you. So, yeah, I'd be scared if I were you."

Sam took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of his nose. "You don't know how much I'd like to kill you. I would love nothing more than to empty every round I have into you, but fortunately for you, I'm not like you. I'm not a monster."

He replaced the safety and put away his gun. Grabbing the roll of tape, he reinforced their bonds and checked them for weapons or anything they could use to free themselves.

"This time," he said, "I'm going to let the law sort this out. I have more important things to worry about than wasting my time dealing with you pieces of shit."

With that, Sam slammed the door and returned to the car to check on his brother.


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

Present

Sam watched in worry as his brother shivered beneath the blankets. He grabbed the blanket from the other bed and draped it over Dean before he snagged the pillows and propped Dean's feet up. He couldn't remember why, but he knew that he had learned to elevate the feet when a person was in shock.

He paced the floor for a few minutes, trying to work out his pent-up rage. It had taken every ounce of self-control not to just shoot the bastards, especially once he had seen what they had done to his brother. It was tempting even now to go jump in the car and finish what they started, but he resisted.

It appeared that Dean had settled down and was able to drift off to sleep. Sam gingerly touched his face and was relieved that his temperature seemed to have gone up, his skin no longer having a chill to it.

Now that the danger of shock had passed, Sam took a deep breath and tried to get himself back in triage mode. He sat back down by Dean and studied his face. His pallid skin was marked with bruises and cuts. His lips were dry and cracked, and the corners of his mouth had been abraded by the gag. As Sam finished cleaning the cuts on Dean's face and shoulders, he watched his brother's vitals like a hawk.

Sam continued to patch up as many injuries as he could without disturbing a now somewhat - peacefully sleeping Dean. The wounds on his wrists were of the most concern; he really needed a course of antibiotics. Dean's hands had mostly returned to their normal color, but not knowing how long the circulation had been cut off was cause for concern. Sam fleetingly considered handling this like "normal" people and taking his brother to the hospital before reporting the assholes who did this to the police. His mind knew that Dean should see a doctor, but his heart couldn't do it. Dean wouldn't want to go, wouldn't want anyone else to see the vulnerability that Sam had. Sure, it was a matter of pride, but Dean needed whatever dignity he could find right now.

If Dean's injuries worsened Sam would throw all that out the window in a heartbeat, but right then it seemed that Dean just needed to rest and re-hydrate.

Dean shifted in his sleep and moaned in pain. Sam knew the over-the-counter stuff wasn't nearly strong enough, but he had hoped it would provide some relief. The creases in Dean's forehead said otherwise.

Dean had been asleep for nearly an hour. Sam was pretty sure he had a concussion, so he knew he needed to wake his brother up soon.

"Dean," he called softly as he sat on the edge of the bed and squeezed his brother's arm. When his brother didn't rouse, he placed his hand gently on Dean's chest. "Dean," he called again as he moved his hand to Dean's shoulder and gave it a gentle shake.

Dean jumped and gasped as his eyes shot open. He immediately cringed in pain from the sudden movement.

"Sorry man," Sam apologized as he rubbed his closed fist in a circle over his heart. Dean's wild-eyed, panicked expression scared Sam. "You okay?" he asked.

Dean took a calming breath before nodding weakly. "Jus' dream," he whispered.

"Yeah, dude, it was just a dream." He pointed his index finger toward his head and pulled it away while crooking his finger twice. "You're here with me and you're safe," Sam assured him with a gentle squeeze of his bicep. "How are you feeling?"

"Like hell," Dean rasped. "Literally."

Sam's heart clenched in sympathy. He hated seeing his big brother hurting like this.

"I'm sorry I didn't get there sooner," Sam said guiltily. "If I had found you earlier, maybe –"

"S'okay Sam," Dean interrupted. "Came soon as y'could."

"I need to finish checking you over. You up to it?" Sam asked, changing the subject for now.

Dean nodded. Sam pulled back the blankets to reveal Dean's battered body. Most of the injuries were bruises. He checked for signs of internal damage, but otherwise there wasn't much he could do for them. There were a couple of lacerations that could use a stitch or two, but he decided to wait until Dean had taken the good pain meds. He bandaged Dean's wrists, careful to not aggravate the skin any worse than it already was.

"How do your hands feel?" Sam asked as he taped the dressings in place.

Dean slowly opened and closed his hands, testing them out for himself. Sam could see the tremors as his fingers moved. "Tingly. Sorta shaky and weak," Dean admitted. "Circulation was cut off," he added quietly. Sam nodded.

He once again checked Dean's head for a bump that could have caused a concussion but didn't find anything. As he checked Dean's pupils, he asked again if Dean knew if he had hit his head.

Dean closed his eyes, thinking, before shaking his head subtly. "I 'unno," he answered.

His pupils were normal and reactive, and his head was clear of trauma, yet Dean was confused and acting concussed. "What do you remember, Dean?" he asked gently.

"S'all jumbled," Dean answered. He swallowed thickly and licked his dry lips. "Nothin' makes sense."

A light bulb came on in Sam's head as he noted Dean's dry throat and raspy voice. Dehydration. That's where the confusion was coming from. Twisting the cap off the Gatorade, he helped Dean lean forward and take a few sips. Dean was so weak, barely able to hold himself upright even with Sam's help. "We've got to get fluids back in you," he told Dean. "You should probably be on an IV drip."

"No hospital," Dean stated firmly.

"As long as nothing gets worse and we keep pushing fluids, I promise – no hospital," Sam agreed. "Does your head still hurt?"

"S'better," Dean answered.

"What hurts the worst?" Sam asked, back in triage mode.

"M'ankle," Dean muttered.

"Your ankle?" Sam repeated, confused. He didn't know anything was wrong with Dean's ankle.

"Mhmm."

Sam pulled the covers further back to expose Dean's feet. Sam hadn't noticed it earlier, but now he could see that one of Dean's ankles was hugely swollen beneath his sock.

"Damn. How did this happen?" Sam asked.

A very subtle shrug of the shoulders was the response he received. "Hurts bad."

"I bet it does," Sam replied. "I'm going to have to cut the sock off." He reached for the scissors and gently removed the sock. "Shit, Dean," he said as he revealed the swollen, purple extremity.

"Broken?" Dean asked.

"I don't know yet," Sam answered. "I'm going to give you some good pain medicine before I mess with it."

Sam dug out the bottle of strong painkillers they had stashed for situations like this. He shook two pills out into his hand and helped Dean swallow them with some Gatorade. Dean's color was looking a bit better, but Sam knew it would take awhile to replenish the fluids he had lost.

"Help me sit up," Dean ordered.

"Just rest, man," Sam told him. "You don't have to get up now. Those meds are going to kick in soon, so just get some sleep."

"Jus' for a minute," Dean replied. "Wanna see."

Sam rolled his eyes. This was the Dean he knew. He knew it was a bad idea for Dean to move, but he was glad to see a flicker of his brother instead of the empty shell.

"Okay, but we take it slow," he compromised. Dean nodded in agreement.

Sam slipped his arm under Dean's shoulders and helped him pull up into a half-seated position. He grabbed the extra pillows and put them behind Dean to prop him up. Dean relaxed against the pillows, pain and exhaustion evident on his face.

"That's good enough," Sam said. Dean closed his eyes and nodded faintly.

Dean took a deep breath before opening his eyes. "You okay?"

"Yeah."

"You gonna hurl?"

"Nothing in there to hurl," Dean answered with a ghost of a smirk. "Jus' tired, Sammy."

Dean directed his gaze down to his feet. He was starting to feel that floaty, medicated haze set in.

"Looks bad," he remarked as his eyelids began to droop.

"No kidding," Sam replied.

"You gon' check it?" Dean asked.

"Have the meds kicked in yet?" A slight nod from Dean. "Okay, let me know if it's too much." Another nod.

Sam gingerly placed his hands on Dean's ankle. Dean grimaced but Sam kept going. Dean bit his lip as Sam palpated the joint, searching for broken bones. He cursed inwardly at his findings.

"Broken?" Dean asked again, breathlessly.

"Possibly, but definitely dislocated," Sam answered. "The bad news is that I need to pop it back in. The good news is you'll probably pass out when I do it."

"Whiskey?" Dean pleaded.

"Sorry, bro," Sam said apologetically. "You're already too dehydrated and you've had pain meds. Those things don't mix." He finger-spelled 'dehydrated' at his brother's look of confusion.

"Son of a bitch," Dean muttered.

"You think you can finish off this bottle?" Sam asked as he picked up the Gatorade. "After I fix your ankle and you're asleep I'm going to run out and get a few things. Do you think you'll be okay?"

Dean nodded as he took a few sips. "Jus' put my gun on the table there," he said, gesturing to the nightstand between the beds.

"Dude, I don't think you'll be in any shape to shoot anybody," Sam pointed out as he got Dean's 1911 and put it on the table.

"Never know, Sammy," Dean replied as he finished off the drink. Sam pulled the extra pillows from behind him and helped Dean lay back down. Sam was concerned by how weak Dean still was, but he hoped that more fluids and maybe some soup would help.

"Alright, you ready?" Sam asked with concern.

"Do it quick," Dean answered.

"Okay, one, two, three," Sam counted and with a quick twist, popped Dean's ankle back into place. Dean gasped, his face contorting in pain before he, as predicted, lost consciousness.

Sam draped a towel over the injured ankle and placed an ice pack on top of it. He quickly stitched up the lacerations and covered them with bandages. He pulled the covers back over Dean and noted that his face had relaxed and his breathing was deep and even. Sam sighed, relieved that his brother was finally getting some rest. After putting on another flannel shirt, he grabbed the keys to the Impala and headed out to get the supplies.

He returned a few minutes later with medical supplies, a few cans of soup and some more Gatorade, and a pair of crutches in the trunk of the Impala. He got out and walked to the back of the car to retrieve the items. As he stuck the key in the lock of the trunk, he felt cold metal being pressed to his neck. 'Shit,' he thought.

He raised his hands in mock surrender before turning to knock the gun from his attacker's grip. As the gun clattered to the ground, Sam was grabbed from behind and slammed against the Impala. His arm was twisted fiercely behind him and his shoulder screamed in pain. He stopped fighting for a moment before a sharp blow to his head caused everything to go black.


	3. Chapter 3

Sorry it has been a few days! No wifi available until now. This chapter is shorter than some, so I'll post two. Thanks for reading and please review!

CHAPTER 3

Sam roused, his head throbbing as he felt wetness trickle sluggishly down his face. The bastard

had pistol-whipped him. He forced his eyes open to find that he was lying on his side on the hotel room bed, and was dismayed to find that he had been tied up and gagged as well. His body jerked reflexively against the bonds, but they didn't give. He glanced to his bound ankles – zip-ties. Damn.

A look over at Dean's bed revealed his brother to still be sound asleep. He could hear the men outside talking and knew they could come back at any moment. Trying not to jostle his sore arm, he reached toward his boot, hoping to find his knife still hidden there. He slipped it out and tried to twist his arms to get in a better position to cut himself free. The motion wrenched his shoulder and he nearly blacked out from the pain. He panted as he stilled and prayed for the pain to stop. In the midst of his agony he didn't hear the door open and his captors return. One of them pried the knife roughly from his hand and shoved him on his back before pressing the blade to his throat. Sam clenched his teeth around the gag as the pain flared and he tried to stay still. He recognized the man as the attacker he had subdued in the kitchen when he had found Dean. The man's eyes said he was looking for revenge.

"Drop the knife," a deep voice ordered.

Sam cut his eyes sharply to the side and saw Dean sitting up in the bed, his 1911 aiming toward the man with the knife.

"Now," Dean growled. He pulled the hammer back, the metallic click resonating in the quiet room.

The man glared at Dean before complying. He dropped the knife to the floor and held his hands up with a sigh of surrender.

"You too," Dean said to the other man. "Move over there and keep your hands where

I can see them."

The men obeyed reluctantly.

"You good, Sam?" Dean asked softly, glancing toward his brother while keeping the gun pointed steadily at their attackers.

Sam nodded, turning slowly back to his uninjured side. His arm was hurting from his shoulder down to his fingers, but he didn't want Dean distracted right then. He knew it was taking all of Dean's energy to keep up his façade and he needed to figure out how to get himself free before Dean's adrenaline ran out.

Just as he noticed Dean's arm begin to waver, the hotel room door flew open revealing Bobby standing there with his shotgun in hand.

"You damn idjits," he said as he racked a round into the chamber. "You oughta know better than to mess with his little brother."

Dean melted back into the pillows in relief. Bobby had once again saved their asses. He looked over at Sam, seeing confusion on his brother's face.

Dean slid his phone out from under the covers with a smirk. "I texted Bobby earlier to let him know we were out of commission for a few days. He was already headed this way to help you find those goons when they brought you in. I let them think I was still out and texted Bobby for backup."

Sam nodded, frustrated that he could neither speak nor sign at the moment. He pulled again at his bonds and winced at the pain lancing through his arm at the movement.

"You're welcome," Bobby retorted dryly, but the brothers could hear the affection in his voice. Bobby tossed Dean a pair of wire cutters and mimed the action of using scissors before pointing to Sam. "Cut your brother loose so he can help me with these idjits," he said as he pushed the two men out of the room at gunpoint. Sam slung his legs over the side of the bed to sit up before hoisting his ankles onto Dean's bed. Dean weakly cut through the thick plastic and Sam stood and moved over for Dean to free his wrists. As he snipped through the ties with a good bit of effort, Sam felt the blood rush to his hands almost immediately. He was reaching up to untie the gag when his left arm screamed out in pain once again. He dropped his hand back into his lap as he tried to breathe through the agony.

"Come 'ere," Dean said as he slowly pulled himself up a little in the bed. Sam obediently leaned his head back for Dean to work on the knot. When it was untied, Sam used his right hand to pull the fabric from his mouth before turning to face his brother.

"Thanks," Sam mumbled as he swallowed thickly and licked his lips.

"Y'hurt?" Dean asked, almost accusingly.

"Nah," Sam denied, shaking his head. "My hands are kinda numb. I'm fine." He stood up quickly and rushed out to help Bobby, grabbing his Taurus as he went by the table. He didn't have to look to know that Dean was glaring skeptically at him, but they didn't have time to worry about that right then.

Sam got outside and held the gun on the men as Bobby secured one in the trunk of his old Charger and the other in the backseat.

"I'll take 'em back to the salvage yard and watch 'em until you boys get ready to deal with this," Bobby said as he and Sam made sure the guys wouldn't get loose during the car ride. "You take care of your brother."

"I will," Sam said as he shook the older man's hand. "Thanks for everything."

Bobby nodded as he opened the driver's side door. Sam began to walk back to the room when Bobby called out to him. "Oh, and Sam? Take care of yourself, too. You're not hiding that bad arm as well as you think."


	4. Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

Sam shook his head as he entered the hotel room. Of course Bobby would know he was hurt. He was relieved to see that Dean appeared to be asleep. He sat down on his bed and gingerly lay back against the pillows, trying to keep his arm as still as possible. He was pretty sure he had a concussion – his head was pounding and he felt a little green around the gills – but it was a minor one. His arm, on the other hand, was anything but minor. His shoulder and elbow were both sprained at the very least, and, if last time was any indication, his wrist was probably broken. He knew he should get it checked, but Dean was the priority right then. He glanced over at his brother. Dean didn't seem as pale as he had earlier, so that was good, but Sam really needed to check his ankle and get Dean to drink some more Gatorade.

He took a deep breath as he willed himself to get up. He sat up on the edge of the bed and waited until the lightheadedness from the pain was over. He stood slowly and was glad to see that he didn't hurl or pass out. Maybe it wasn't as bad as he thought.

"S'mmy?" Dean muttered, his eyes opening a crack.

"Yeah?" Sam replied, trying to seem relaxed.

"Y'look like shit," Dean said, completely serious.

"No offense, but right back at you, man," Sam retorted as he lifted the blanket to check Dean's ankle. It was swollen and purple, but that was to be expected. He removed the melted ice pack and replaced the blanket.

"Concussion?" Dean asked as he looked at the gash on Sam's temple. "Stitches?"

Sam started to deny it, but sighed in defeat. "I think so. And I don't know."

"Come 'ere," Dean said again. "Lemme look at your eyes."

Sam sat down on the edge of the bed. Dean, in a halfway seated position, checked Sam's eyes before probing the gash. "Your eyes look okay. Head hurt?"

Sam nodded. "What day is it?" Dean asked. "Um…Tuesday," Sam answered, somewhat uncertainly.

Dean thought for a minute. "Yeah, sounds about right," he mumbled. Come to think of it, Dean had no clue what day it was. "Better question…what alias did we rent this room under?"

"Pete Willis," Sam responded, remembering seeing the credit card homage to Def Leppard and hoping the desk clerk wasn't a big classic rock fan.

"Okay, I think you're good," Dean said. "Maybe a mild concussion, but I think you're just gon' have a helluva headache."

Sam went to the sink and cleaned the cut on his forehead. He applied a couple of Steri strips one-handed and decided stitches weren't necessary. He went back over and handed Dean the Gatorade. "Drink some of this. I'm going to go get the stuff out of the car."

As soon as he was out the door, he leaned heavily against the wall. Damn, his arm hurt. He cradled it carefully with his good arm as he prayed for relief. After a couple of minutes, he pulled himself together and continued on to the Impala.

Returning to the room with his purchases in his right arm, Sam closed and locked the door and checked that all their protections were in place. He was exhausted and he planned for both Dean and himself to be getting some sleep soon.

He put the extra drinks in the fridge and added the medical supplies to their kit. "You up for some soup?" he asked Dean. He hoped Dean wouldn't notice his lack of signing, but his arm just hurt too much.

"Not yet," Dean murmured. Sam saw that he had finished off the Gatorade, so he'd wait until morning to worry about food.

"Okay," Sam replied. "Let's get some sleep then. You ready for another pain pill?" Without waiting for an answer, Sam retrieved the pills and, keeping his back to Dean, attempted to open the bottle. His left hand was completely useless; it was far too painful to grip the bottle or twist the cap.

"How long you think you're gonna be able to hide it?" Dean asked softly.

"Hide what?" Sam asked nonchalantly, gesturing the 'what' to the side with his good hand.

"Come on, dude. I know your arm is screwed up. You're not that good of an actor," Dean pointed out. "You've been favoring it since Bobby showed up, you stopped signing, and I'm guessing you're just trying to ignore it."

"Alright, so?" Sam challenged as he turned around. "What else can I do?"

"Um, go to a doctor maybe? Or the ER?" Dean shot back.

"No," Sam declared firmly. "I'm not leaving you here alone again."

Dean sighed. "How bad is it?"

Sam decided it was futile to lie to Dean, so he might as well get it over with. "Bad," he admitted. "Really bad."

"Damn it, Sam. Why didn't you say something?" Dean said with a glare. His protective instincts gave him a burst of adrenaline and he flipped back the covers and acted like he was going to get up.

"Whoa," Sam said. "Stay there. I'm okay, Dean. You need to stay in bed."

Dean ignored him and pushed himself into a seated position. The sweat glistening on his forehead and the sudden loss of color in his face showed Sam that he was right.

"Dean, if you fall out, I'm not going to be able to get you off the floor. Please lay back down," Sam said. "I'll show you my arm if it'll make you feel better."

He moved over to Dean's bed and sat on the edge. Working his flannel shirt off his good arm first, he then eased it off the left arm carefully. He did the same with his t-shirt, biting his lip in agony with even the slightest movement. With the sleeve hiding most of his arm, even Sam himself hadn't seen the full extent of the damage. His wrist (which he decided was most certainly broken) was beginning to turn purple and had swollen, along with his elbow.

Sam cradled his arm as Dean looked it over. He prodded gently, but even the subtle pressure made Sam flinch.

"Dude, your arm is seriously screwed," Dean pointed out. "The injuries are far beyond what we can fix here. You need to go to a doctor."

"I'm okay," Sam argued. "I'll just ice it here and wrap my wrist and it will be fine."

"Sam," Dean began.

"Dean," Sam replied. "Don't start with the overprotective big brother act. You're far more injured than I am, and you certainly didn't want to go to a doctor."

"This is different," Dean said. "My injuries are superficial and can be treated here. You, on the other hand, have screwed up tendons, ligaments, who knows what, and I'm pretty sure your wrist is broken."

"But-" Sam started to say.

"And judging by the way you're not moving it, I'm also guessing your shoulder is dislocated. I'd put it back for you, but I don't think I'm able to right now."

Sam opened his mouth to argue, but he realized that everything Dean had said made sense. There wasn't much they could do there for his arm, and there was no way to know exactly what the damage was. It also might not be a bad idea to get a new prescription for some good pain meds to restock the kit.

"Okay," Sam conceded. "Tomorrow. I'll go find an urgent care place tomorrow. Right now, you and I both need to try to get some sleep."

"Alright," Dean agreed. "Tomorrow. First thing. But before we sleep, I need to see if I can get to the bathroom. I have like 150 ounces of Gatorade inside of me." He shot a smirk at his younger brother.

Sam moved to retrieve the crutches, relieved that he had assembled and adjusted them to fit Dean's 6'1" frame before loading them up at the store. Using his good arm, he helped Dean pull himself up into a seated position. Through a slow and exhausting process, they managed to get Dean up on his feet (well, foot) with the crutches supporting his weight. Sam could see that the exertion was rough on his brother, but there was no way he could carry Dean or even help him walk without jostling his arm. A series of slow steps and short breaks got Dean to the bathroom and back. Before returning to the bed, Dean stopped at the table where the med kit was.

"I've already pulled the meds out," Sam said. "They're on the nightstand."

"Not what I'm looking for, Sammy," Dean said as he rummaged through. He pulled out a wide ACE bandage they've used to wrap broken ribs and a barely used sling from one of the many dislocated shoulders the Winchesters had had (and ignored) over the years. He tossed both items on the bed before allowing Sam to help him get propped back up against the pillows.

"What are you doing?" Sam asked.

"Patching you up until tomorrow. Put on the sling and come 'ere."

Sam narrowed his eyes at his brother before complying. He slipped his arm into the sling and pulled the strap so that it was snug against his side. He went and sat on Dean's bed. Dean adjusted the sling again, making sure that Sam's arm was secured as close to his body as possible. He began to wrap the ACE bandage over the sling and around Sam's torso, pulling it tight to keep his arm immobile. The process was painful for Sam, but once Dean clipped the bandage in place and made sure it was adjusted right, Sam could already tell it was helping.

"That's much better," he told Dean. "Takes some of the pressure off."

"That was the plan, Sammy," Dean said with a ghost of a smile as he closed his eyes and relaxed back into the pillows. The exertion of getting up had worn him out.

Sam watched Dean guiltily. This is why he didn't want Dean to know he was hurt. He could tell his brother had overdone it trying to help him.

"Don't," Dean said without even opening his eyes.

"What?" Sam asked.

"Start blaming yourself or getting all emo on me," Dean said as he peeked at his brother before opening his eyes. "I'm just tired from getting up to go pee. And besides, you couldn't have wrapped that arm yourself, so just get over it. I'm okay, Sam."

Sam sighed. He had come so close to losing his brother and he was still shaken up about it. It was hard not to be overprotective.

"Okay," he conceded. "We'll just have to agree to take care of each other, then."

"I can do that," Dean answered. "Now let's get some sleep."

"Please," Sam responded eagerly as his open palm circled over his heart. It felt like it had been days since he had slept. Oh wait, maybe it had…

He handed the bottle of pills to Dean, who wrestled it open before pouring some into his hand. He left the cap off and replaced the bottle on the nightstand before offering two of the pills to Sam.

"No, man, I'm good," Sam insisted. "You need them."

"Oh, I'm going to take some, believe me, but you need some, too," Dean said, offering the tablets again.

"No," Sam said again, "I'm fine."

"Sam, stop being so stubborn and take the damn pills," Dean said with a sigh. "Your arm has to be hurting like a bitch, so just suck it up and take them."

"I can't Dean!" Sam exclaimed. "If you wake up during the night and need me, I won't hear you. I'm not going to risk something happening to you because I was too drugged."

Dean sighed again and glared at Sam. After a moment he shook his head and offered a compromise. "Okay, here's what we're going to do. You're going to take the pills, and I'm going to let you sleep on the bed with me. That way, if I need you, I can punch you in the face to wake you up or whatever, but you'll still get some pain-free sleep."

"Dean –," Sam started.

"Nope," Dean cut him off. "We're doing this my way. Couple of rules – one, you take the pills willingly or I shove them down your throat. Two, you get in the bed here and we never mention this again, capiche?"

Sam glared at his brother for a moment before reluctantly accepting the pills. "Fine, but keep your hands to yourself," he said with a smirk as he swallowed the medicine. He unbuttoned his jeans one-handed and kicked them off before grabbing his sweatpants and heading to the bathroom. He emerged a moment later dressed for bed. Before climbing in next to Dean, Sam grabbed the blankets from the other bed. Dean looked at him questioningly. "You're a cover hog," Sam explained as he flipped off the lights and settled in next to his brother.


	5. Chapter 5

New character entering the story during this chapter!

CHAPTER 5

Both brothers slept fitfully that night. Dean's body ached and he was awakened by nightmares of his captivity. Sam had nightmares, too, of the days he spent looking for Dean and the state he found him in, and his arm throbbed mercilessly despite the painkillers.

When the sun began streaking in through the curtains, neither brother had gotten any decent sleep and both felt as though a train may have run through the motel room during the night, leaving few survivors in its wake.

Sam was the first to awaken, as usual. Dean never had been a morning person. He hoped that Dean felt better today, that he had gotten more sleep than Sam had. Sam rose from the bed carefully, trying not to wake up Dean. He shuffled over to the sink and splashed some cold water on his face. The throb in his arm had gotten worse with him moving around. He never thought he'd admit it, but he was sort of looking forward to seeing a doctor. He was not, however, looking forward to getting a shower and having to deal with a shirt.

Might as well get it over with. He popped the clips loose on the ACE bandage and unwound it slowly. During the night, most of his arm had taken on the purple color that his wrist had previously started with. It looked awful. Slowly he removed the sling and cradled his arm against his chest. Between the pain itself and looking at the damage, Sam's stomach turned and he broke out in a cold sweat.

Dean roused and rolled over to see his brother, face white as a sheet, standing at the mirror in the bathroom. "Sam?" he rasped, his throat still dry and hoarse. "You okay?"

Sam closed his eyes and Dean could tell he was trying not to hurl or pass out, or both. Cursing his weakened and seriously screwed up body once again, he settled for sitting up when he would normally have already been at Sam's side.

"Sam? Dude, you look like Casper. You need to sit down," Dean said gently but firmly. "Like, right now."

Sam continued to stand there for a minute, gripping the edge of the counter with his good arm. Once he was sure he wasn't going to fall out, he released it and stumbled over to sit on the bed with Dean.

Dean looked at him, concerned. "You good?" he asked cautiously.

Sam took a deep breath and rubbed his face. "Yeah, I'm good," he answered weakly. "For now." Slowly and carefully he relaxed back against the headboard.

"Man, you definitely need to go to a doctor," Dean said, bracing himself for a fight. He wondered if Sam had agreed last night just to shut him up, and Sam could be incredibly stubborn when he wanted to.

"I know," Sam admitted.

"Sam, your arm is…wait, you agree?" Dean asked, confused.

"Yeah," Sam said. "I told you last night I'd go, and with the way I feel today, there's no way around it."

Dean stared at him for a minute before lying back down. "Damn, it must be bad. You didn't even argue with me."

Sam just nodded. "How do you feel today? Any better?"

"Eh," Dean answered. "I've been better…but I've been worse. I still feel like a bus hit me, kicked it in reverse, and hit me again. But as long as I lay here in bed – as much as I hate it – I'll be fine. Right now, you're the one I'm worried about. Are you going to be able to make it there alone?"

Sam had regained some of his color and looked a little better. "Yeah, I'll make it," he answered. "There's a hospital a couple blocks down the street. I just gotta take it slow."

Once he felt like he wouldn't pass out, Sam stood slowly and made his way to his duffel and pulled out a t-shirt. There was no way he could handle a shower right then. He carefully worked the shirt on and slipped his feet into his running shoes.

"Alright, man, you need anything before I go?" he asked Dean as he grabbed the keys to the Impala.

"Nah, I'm good. Go get yourself taken care of," Dean answered with a yawn. "I'll probably go back to sleep."

Sam smirked as Dean's eyes closed almost immediately. "Yeah, probably," he remarked sarcastically.

He walked out to the Impala and got in carefully, reaching across to pull the door shut with his good arm. He rested his head back against the headrest and closed his eyes, the fatigue of the last few minutes catching up with him. He took a deep breath and turned the key in the ignition.

Arriving at the hospital, he parked the Impala and headed inside. After a glance at his grotesquely swollen and discolored arm and the impressive gash and bruise on his forehead, the desk clerk sent him straight to triage after getting his information. Things moved quickly, as the triage nurse sent him directly to x-ray before getting him settled in an exam room.

Sam was met in the exam room by a young blonde nurse. Her nametag told him that she was an RN and her name was Lindsey. Dean would probably have tried to hit on her despite the rings sparkling on her left hand. Sam grunted as he sat on the edge of the bed, the movement jostling his arm. Lindsey was efficient and gentle, helping Sam remove his shirt with as little pain as possible and recording his vital signs and medical history.

"Okay, Sam," Lindsey said with a comforting smile. "Dr. Roberts will be in to see you soon. Before she gets here, let's go over what happened so I can make sure I got everything written down. You said you were hiking?"

"Yeah," Sam lied smoothly. "My brother and I were hiking and I lost my footing. He says I hit my head on a rock and lost consciousness. I must have landed on my arm wrong when I fell."

"And this happened yesterday?"

"Yeah, we just got back to town," Sam said as he shifted to recline on the narrow bed. "Dean was a field medic in the Marines, so he patched me up until we could get back to town. He said I probably had a mild concussion but he knew the arm was too bad to handle at home."

"How long were you unconscious?" Lindsey asked as she continued adding notes to Sam's chart.

"I honestly don't know," Sam replied.

"Okay, I think that covers everything. Let me see if Dr. Roberts is ready."

"Thanks," Sam said as he lay back on the pillows.

He must have dozed off because he was startled when the door opened again. Lindsey returned with a small cup in each hand.

"Sorry if I woke you," Lindsey said apologetically.

"Nah," Sam brushed it off. "I was just resting."

"Okay," Lindsey said with a knowing smirk. "Dr. Roberts is checking over your x-rays, but she wanted me to go ahead and give you this." She offered one of the small cups with two pills in it.

"We already know your shoulder is dislocated, and Dr. Roberts will set it. The x-rays also show that your forearm is fractured. She's looking now to see if it will have to be fixed as well. You can go ahead and give these a chance to work." She gestured to the offered pills.

"No thanks," Sam said. The blonde nurse looked at him skeptically.

"Seriously? You don't have to be macho," she said teasingly. "I won't judge you."

Sam smiled. "I'll be fine. I promise."

Lindsey looked at him for a moment before shaking her head. "Your choice. Let me know if you change your mind."

"Thanks," Sam said sincerely, surprised she didn't push the issue more.

Lindsey stepped back into the hall and spoke to Dr. Roberts. A moment later, a pretty brunette entered the room, chart in hand.

"So, Mr. Winchester, Lindsey tells me you've refused the pain meds," she said as she flipped pages in the folder.

Sam was frozen. He couldn't believe this. What were the chances of running into her, even months later?

"Cara?" he said incredulously.


	6. Chapter 6

Cara was in the episode "Sex and Violence" early in season 4. She was the coroner/pathologist/doctor in the episode. She and Sam hit it off while the brothers were hunting the siren. Any conflict between the brothers from that episode has been resolved.

This chapter gives some backstory and explains about how Dean became deaf. Thanks for the comments and keep them coming!

CHAPTER 6

Cara looked up from the chart and her jaw dropped when she recognized her patient.

"Sam? What are you doing here?

"Well, I'm hurt…and this is the Emergency Room," Sam answered with a smirk.

Cara stared at him. "I know that! I mean, what are you doing HERE, in this town? And why does your chart say Sam Winchester?"

"I'm here because my partner and I were working a case nearby. And my chart says Winchester because that's my real name. Long story."

Lindsey was watching in curiosity. Obviously these two knew each other. And from the way Dr. Roberts was shifting nervously and holding the chart awkwardly in front of her, she suspected there may have been more than a doctor-patient relationship between them.

"Um, Dr. Roberts," she interrupted. "I'm going to go get Sam some water." Lindsey slipped out with a wink at the doctor, as she knew full well that there was a cup of water on the counter. She'd come back after they'd gotten things sorted out.

Sam and Cara were alone. Awkward silence ensued.

Sam broke the ice first. "So, what's the prognosis, doc?" he joked.

"Oh, no. You're not getting by that easily," Cara warned. "What do you mean, long story? Your last name is Winchester? Seven months ago you were Sam Stiles, FBI agent. Not to mention you mysteriously disappeared after we spent the evening in my office, and the killings stopped just as suddenly."

"I'm sorry," Sam said. "I never meant to leave you like that. Things got dangerous and we took care of the problem and split. I never meant to hurt you, Cara."

Cara sighed. "I believe you. I never expected anything more than what we had, but a goodbye would have been nice. An explanation would have been great, too…" she trailed off, hinting that she wanted to know what happened.

Sam smirked. "Subtlety. I like it. Dean – my partner – and I figured out who the killer was. He attacked us and our coworker had to take him down. It was part of an undercover sting, so we had to keep it quiet, for our coworker's sake. He's still in deep cover."

Cara still looked a bit skeptical, but just nodded. "Okay. Just one more thing – I don't believe your hiking story. You have spiral fractures of the radius and ulna that can't be explained by a fall while hiking, along with a dislocated shoulder and sprained elbow and wrist. Those are textbook twisting injuries. Tell me what really happened, Sam."

Between the pain, the fatigue, and the surprise of seeing Cara, Sam's resolve wavered. He sighed deeply, rubbing his good hand down his face.

"Okay, here's the whole story. Well, most of it at least. My name really is Sam Winchester. Dean is my partner, but he's also my brother. We're not FBI. We specialize in secret investigations of strange cases. I can't really go any deeper than that, and believe me, you don't want to know any more."

Cara processed that, her eyes narrowed in thought. After a moment she nodded, encouraging him to continue.

"Dean was abducted a few days ago. I tracked him down and got him out last night, but the guys followed us. I was ambushed. One guy grabbed me, wrenched my arm, and hit me with a gun. When I went down, it screwed my arm up even more. When I woke up, I was tied up and I was sure we were done. Luckily, our…colleague…showed up and saved the day. Dean checked the head wound and patched me up. And here I am."

"Why did you wait until today to come in? Why didn't you come last night? And where is Dean?"

"I had been looking for Dean for three days. I was exhausted and felt like I'd been hit by a truck. And I wasn't ready to leave Dean again."

"Sam, you really should reconsider taking those pain pills. I have to set your arm, and it's going to hurt, no matter how tough you think you are."

"It's not that," Sam assured her. "I just…can't."

Cara sighed at his lame answer.

"It's Dean," Sam finally answered quietly. "He's hurt. I can't take the meds because I have to be able to take care of him. Those guys took him and beat the hell out of him and he's so weak, so dehydrated. He needs me to be able to take care of him."

"Oh, Sam," Cara said as tears welled up in her eyes. "I'm sorry." It was agonizing to see how much pain Sam was in, both physically and emotionally. "I'm so sorry."

Sam closed his eyes as he willed himself to get it together. Cara stepped closer to the bed and took his good hand in one of hers.

"Dean must have wanted you to come here, so he obviously wants you to get help," she said gently. "I'll make you a deal. You're my last patient of the day. Take the pills, I'll fix your arm up, and I'll drive you back to Dean. If you're still too drugged, I'll stay and make sure Dean is okay until you feel better."

Sam seemed to be contemplating it. "I don't know."

She could tell he was still struggling with it. "Call him. Call Dean, explain what's going on, and see what he says."

Sam sighed before nodding. He awkwardly pulled out his phone and dialed. Cara signaled that she'd be back and left Sam to talk to his brother.

Cara went to the casting room and gathered what she'd need to splint Sam's arm. There was too much swelling right now to cast it, so she'd have to splint it for a couple of days. She also got a sling that would fasten around Sam's abdomen to immobilize his arm. She headed back to Sam's room and opened the door slowly.

"Cara," Sam said as she entered the room, arms full of medical supplies. "Dean wants to talk to you." Sam paused as he mentally debated something. "Dean's deaf. We use video chat. Just speak clearly and he can read your lips."

Cara tried to hide her surprise as she shifted the supplies to one arm and took the phone. "Hi, Dean," she said smoothly.

"Cara." Dean replied, his voice hoarse and gravelly. She could only see his face, but she could tell he was in bad shape. His eyes were tired and she could see cuts on his forehead and cheeks. She could sense the weakness as he spoke. "Sam explained what's going on. I'm skeptical by nature, but my brother trusts you. So I'm going to have to trust you, too."

"Thank you," Cara said earnestly.

"Don't let him suffer through for my benefit. I'm getting good drugs and he should too. If you have to, roofie his Sasquatch ass. Just take care of him."

"I promise, Dean," Cara answered. "I'll get him fixed up and back to you as soon as possible."

"You better," Dean threatened with a poor impression of his usual glare, but Cara wasn't scared. He sounded just like an older brother should. "And Cara? You better take care of my car just like you would your own child." Cara grinned and agreed.

Sam took the phone back and ended the call. "Ok, you and Dean win. Hand over the good stuff."

Cara passed the pills and the water to Sam and he swallowed the tablets.

"So Dean is deaf? How did I not know this before?" Cara asked.

"Uh, yeah," Sam answered with a small smirk. "Most people don't. He reads lips really well and when he can't, he just bullshits his way through. He's great with body language and all that. When we work cases, we don't tell anybody. Obviously, I get to make all the phone calls."

"Has he always been deaf?" Cara asked curiously. "He speaks so well. I really would never have known."

"It happened when he was 9. He lost almost all his hearing. We both got the chicken pox, and his got really bad. I was so young and I didn't really know what was going on. Even though we all had to learn ASL, Dad encouraged Dean to keep talking and we helped him get through. He can sometimes hear certain frequencies and really loud noises, but nothing that really helps. No matter how loud they are, he can't decipher voices or anything. He says it's like being underwater – he can hear the noise but it's too muffled to make out. When we're alone, we sign a good bit, but in public, we act like he can hear."

"Wow," Cara replied.

"Yeah," Sam agreed. "I take it for granted, but my brother's pretty awesome." Cara nodded.

"Now that we have that taken care of," Cara began as she turned to place the medical supplies on a cart, "I should probably tell you that I have a secret of my own." Cara closed her eyes as she took a deep breath and slipped out of her white lab coat. 'It's now or never,' she told herself as she turned back to face Sam.

Sam's eyebrows were furrowed in confusion, which quickly turned to surprise when he finally got a full view of Cara without her body being blocked by anything. "Oh my…"

"Yeah," Cara confirmed as she placed her hand on the scrub-covered bump. "I'm pregnant, Sam."


	7. Chapter 7

CHAPTER 7

Sam sat in silence. Stunned would not even begin to describe how he felt. His mind was going a million miles an hour. He knew Dean would tease him about his geeky brain as he went through the events. About seven months ago they worked the siren case and he slept with Cara. Fast forward to an approximately six-plus-month pregnant (and extremely guilty looking) Cara. Sam didn't have to be a genius to make an inference about what must have happened.

"Holy hell," he said as tears began to stream down Cara's face. That was all the confirmation he needed. "Cara."

"I'm so sorry, Sam," she said. "I tried to get in touch with you when I found out, but the Bureau couldn't seem to track down Sam Stiles. I understand why now. Anyway, I was on birth control, but it's obviously not 100 percent effective. I don't want you to think that I expect anything from you, you didn't know and I didn't plan this and…"

"Hey," Sam said softly, cutting her off. "I know you didn't do this on purpose. I'm shocked, I'll admit it, but I'm not mad. We're both responsible here, and I promise we'll work things out." He blinked slowly. "But I think it's going to have to wait until the drugs are out of my system."

Cara nodded and wiped her tears. Sam wasn't mad at her. She felt a huge weight lift off her shoulders, and for the first time since she found out she was pregnant, she felt like everything would be okay.

She took a deep breath and pulled herself together. "Okay," she said resolutely. "Let me get Lindsey back in here. We'll get you fixed up and back to Dean in no time."

Sam smiled and took her hand in his. "Thanks, Cara," he said groggily. She placed a kiss on his forehead and smoothed his hair back as he drifted off.

An hour and a half later, Cara and Lindsey had loaded Sam into the Impala and they were on the way to Sam and Dean's motel room. She had fixed his shoulder and set his arm before splinting the arm up past his elbow and securing it in the sling. Cara had called Dean back while Sam rested and she now had a bag full of any supplies she might need to treat him, too. She was glad she had caught a ride to work with her neighbor, Britt, this morning, so she didn't have to worry about her car. She made a mental note to text Britt and let her know she didn't need a ride home.

She parked the car in front of the motel room. She decided then and there that no matter what Sam wanted to do about the baby, there was no way she was leaving him and Dean to recover in a seedy motel room.

She climbed out of the car and slung her bag over her shoulder before going to Sam's side. He was awake, but woozy and unsteady. She wrapped her arm around his waist, guiding him to the door. He fumbled the key into the lock and they entered. Once she had him seated on the bed closest to the door, she sat her bag down and finally got a good look at the other Winchester.

Dean was pale and tired-looking, but his eyes fixed on Cara in surprise. He was quiet for a moment before smirking at his brother. "Oh, Sammy," he said, clearly enjoying the moment. "Way to slip one past the goalie." He also made a series of what Cara assumed were lewd or obscene signs as he grinned at Sam.

Sam rolled his eyes and signed 'shut up' at his brother before standing shakily to walk around to Dean's bed.

Cara intercepted him, guiding him to sit down on the bed facing Dean. "Remember our deal?" she said sternly, but gently.

Sam nodded and allowed her to further guide him to relax against the pillows. The meds were still buzzing in his system and he allowed them to pull him back under as Cara began to check on Dean.

Sam woke a couple hours later. He opened his eyes to see Dean sleeping peacefully in the other bed. The TV was on, but the sound was muted.

"Cara?" he called softly, his voice coming out as an undignified croak. He felt the mattress shift beside him and he turned his head slowly to find Cara sitting next to him, her back against the headboard.

"Hey," she said quietly. "How are you feeling?"

"Still a little druggy, but better," Sam answered honestly. The throbbing in his arm had lessened to a dull ache thanks to the painkillers and the pounding in his head was more of a pulsing. "How is Dean?"

Cara smiled in amusement. These boys had one-track minds when it came to each other. "He's okay," she replied. "You did a good job on the first aid. The swelling is going down in his ankle and he was able to move around a little better when he got up to go to the bathroom. Once we get to my place I'm going to start him on some IV fluids and antibiotics, just in case. That, and plenty of rest, and he'll be fine."

Sam nodded before his fuzzy brain caught up. "Wait, your place?"

"Yep. You and Dean are going to come stay with me until you're both well. Dean tried to argue with me, but I played the Sam card and he folded. Don't make me play the Dean card with you," she warned.

"The Dean card? What would that be?"

"That would be where I tell you all the reasons why Dean should be somewhere clean and comfortable to recover where he can have around-the-clock supervision by a medical professional and unlimited access to any necessary medical supplies or medications," Cara explained. "You wouldn't deny him that, would you?" she added with a look of mock disapproval.

Sam smiled slightly. "You've got us figured out already."

"Oh yeah," Cara said with a smile. "When Dean wakes up, we'll head over to my place."

"Okay," Sam agreed as he began trying to sit up. He still felt awkward and uncoordinated. Cara climbed off the bed and came around to help him up. "Bathroom?" she asked as Sam swayed on his feet and nodded. She stuck close by until he got his bearings. While he was in the bathroom, she got out a bottle of water from the fridge. Sam emerged from the bathroom and she helped him get propped up on the bed before opening the water and handing it to him. He drank half the bottle before handing it back. "Thanks," he said softly. He used his good hand to pat the empty space she had been occupying during his nap.

Cara smiled and got back up on the bed. Her belly was getting pretty big, so she was glad to relax against the pillows. It was quiet for a moment before Sam spoke.

"I haven't had a lot of time to think, and I haven't had a chance to talk to Dean, but I'm going to take care of you and the – our baby. I don't know how it's going to work, but I know I can't turn my back on you." He laced his fingers with hers and she had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from bawling.

"Sam," she began. "You don't have to feel any obligation to me or the baby. I knew from the beginning that I'd probably be doing this on my own. It's okay, really," she assured him, almost managing to keep the emotion out of her voice.

"No, it's not," Sam said as he turned a bit to face her. "I never felt right about leaving you, Cara. Even though I thought it was a one-night thing, I regretted walking away like that." He wiped the tears that were running down her face. "I already love this baby. I can't say for sure what I'll do or how I'll explain it to Dean, but all I know is I'm not walking away again."

Cara smiled and nodded, trying to compose herself. "We have time to figure things out when you're feeling better. What's important is that our little girl is going to be loved."

Sam's face broke into a smile. "It's a girl?"

Cara nodded and grinned. "It is. I haven't chosen a name yet, but she's perfect and healthy."

Sam raised Cara's hand to his mouth, pressing a kiss to it before relaxing back into the pillows. "You've given me an amazing gift, Cara. You have rescued me and my brother, and you're giving me the family I never thought I'd have. I'll never be able to show you what this means." Sam's eyes closed and Cara watched him rest peacefully for a few minutes. Dean began to stir, so she rose quietly and began to gather the brothers' belongings. Once the bags were packed, she went to Sam and checked the status of his arm. She inspected the splint to make sure the bandages weren't too tight and checked his shoulder to make sure the joint had stayed in place. Sam stirred at her ministrations and pressed a hand to his forehead before forcing his eyes open.

"You okay?" she asked as she brushed his hair back.

"Headache," he responded simply as he massaged his temples.

She grimaced in sympathy. "I bet. I'll get you something for it."

She returned a moment later with some acetaminophen and water. "Dean?" he questioned again.

"M'okay, Sammy," Dean slurred, his voice still raspy from sleep. "You okay?"

"M'okay," Sam answered.

Cara rolled her eyes in amusement. "Okay," she said. "Since we're all 'okay' here, let's get a move on. We can get some food on the way to my house. I'm craving Chinese."


	8. Chapter 8

CHAPTER 8

An hour later, they were at Cara's house. It took several trips to get the food, supplies, and the walking wounded into the house, but they made it. The boys were both stretched out on the queen-sized bed in the guest room and Cara brought the food to them. Dean managed a fair amount of his soup, and both Sam and Cara ate hungrily. Sam was quiet and kept rubbing his head, but Cara attributed it to fatigue and the concussion. After the food was cleared away, Cara began to set up the medical supplies.

The boys decided they'd share the room they were currently in. Cara had another spare bedroom, but she understood them wanting to stay together. Sam went into the bathroom and changed into clean sweatpants. Cara helped him remove the sling and support his arm to take off his shirt, and they silently agreed to forego a new shirt.

Cara began to set up Dean's IV. As she inserted the needle in the back of his hand, he distracted himself by examining Sam's arm. "Damn," he said. "It just keeps looking worse and worse. Cara, should he ice that?"

"It wouldn't be a bad idea," Cara agreed. "It will help with the swelling. There are ice packs in the freezer."

Cara finished taping the IV in place as Sam walked slowly from the room and headed toward the kitchen. She attached the saline bag and hung it up. She had taken a picture off the wall beside the bed and was using the hook as a makeshift IV pole - pretty resourceful if you asked her. She adjusted the flow of the fluid and checked the line for kinks or air bubbles before nodding to herself in approval. The last step was attaching the small bag of antibiotics to the saline bag.

"How's that?" she asked Dean.

"Outstanding," Dean answered with a smirk. "Thanks," he added sincerely, "for everything."

"My pleasure," Cara responded with a smirk of her own. "How's the pain?"

"Okay right now. I'm just tired. Think I'll grab a nap."

"Sounds like a good –" she was cut off by a grunt and crash from just beyond the bedroom.

Dean saw Cara's eyes widen as she trailed off and turned toward the door. His instincts kicked in, knowing that something was wrong with Sam. Cara put her hand on his chest just as he began to rise from the bed.

"Stay," she ordered firmly. "I'll check on him, but you need to stay here."

Temporarily appeased, Dean relaxed as Cara rushed from the room as quickly as her growing belly would allow. Down the hallway, just into the living room, she found Sam collapsed on the floor. He looked like he had just dropped in a heap, his bad arm twisted awkwardly beneath him.

"Sam!" she called as she lowered herself to the floor at his side. He didn't respond, and Cara noticed that his whole body was tense, every muscle straining as he panted in agony.

"Sam," she called again, her voice softer but just as urgent. "Talk to me. What happened?"

Still getting no response, she placed her hand on his face, patting his cheek in an attempt to rouse him. His good hand immediately went to clutch his head. She felt his teeth grit, and her heart clenched at the whimper that escaped as the pain became too much.

"Sam," she called, even softer this time. "Is it your head, sweetie? A migraine?"

Receiving no answer, she pushed to her feet and returned to the bedroom to find Dean fumbling to remove the IV she had just gotten hooked up.

"Dean, I swear, if you take that out or get up from that bed – pregnant or not – I will kick your ass," she warned.

"Sam needs – "

"Sam needs you to get well. I will take care of Sam," Cara answered. "Dean, does Sam have migraines?"

"Again?" Dean questioned, struggling to understand what Cara was asking.

"Does Sam have migraines?" Cara repeated slowly and patiently.

Dean gestured to his own head. "Migraine?" he verified.

Cara nodded. "Yeah, I think the concussion may have brought one on. Has he ever had problems with migraines before?"

"Well, he used to have these vis – these vicious headaches," Dean answered, catching himself just in time before he blurted out about Sam's visions. "He took some kind of medicine for them."

"Do you remember what it was?"

"I saw the name, but I don't know how to say it," Dean answered. He closed his eyes briefly as he pictured the medication's name. "I-m-i-t-r-," he said as he finger-spelled the word.

"Imitrex?"

"Yeah, that's it."

"Oh, thank God," Cara replied as she grabbed her cell phone and dialed. "Hey Britt? Do you have any Imitrex you can bring over? It's kind of an emergency. Thanks."

She ended the call before addressing Dean again. "My neighbor and best friend, Britt, is a doctor and she also has migraines occasionally. She's bringing some medicine over for Sam. Dean, please stay here. I will take care of Sam, but I can't be hauling your ass up off the floor in my condition."

Dean sighed and nodded, hating being so helpless but trusting Cara to take care of his brother. She squeezed his leg before leaving the room and returning to Sam. Just as she had settled herself on the floor by Sam's head, the back door opened and Britt came in.

"Cara, what's going on?" she demanded as she joined her friend at the strange man's side.

"Shh. I'll give you details later, but this is Sam. Yes, THE Sam," Cara explained softly. "He had an accident and seems to be having a post-concussive migraine. Did you bring the meds?"

Britt produced a preloaded syringe of the medicine. Cara breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you," she said earnestly.

"Hey, no need to thank me. That's what I'm here for," Britt assured her as she handed over the meds. "But I do expect details."

Cara carefully injected the medicine into the flesh of Sam's abdomen, finding it difficult to locate a non-muscular area on his sculpted body. It would take a few minutes to kick in, but she needed to get him off his injured arm as soon as possible.

"Help me turn him?" she asked Britt. "He has multiple injuries to that left arm and I'm worried he may have hurt it again when he fell."

Together the girls worked to turn Sam from his stomach to his right side without causing too much undue pain. Cara maneuvered his head into her lap and stroked his hair gently, feeling his body begin to relax as the medicine worked its way through his system. Britt adjusted his bad arm back into a more comfortable position.

"Britt, can you do one more favor?" Cara asked her friend. "Can you go to the spare room and check on Dean?"

"Dean?" Britt asked. "Cara, how many men do you have hiding out here?"

"Dean is Sam's brother. They were both injured and Dean's very… protective of his little brother. He has probably unhooked the IV and is trying to get up on the crutches as we speak. I don't care if you have to sit on him, do not let him out of that bed."

"Got it," Britt answered. "Be right back."

After Britt was gone, Cara realized she didn't know Dean was deaf. Sam's words at the hospital played in her mind. _He reads lips really well and when he can't, he just bullshits his way through._

Oh well. Dean would make it work.

Cara continued to stroke Sam's hair, hoping to soothe away some of the pain. She hated to make him move, but in a few minutes the meds would have him completely under and there would be no way she'd be able to get him up then. They needed to go ahead and get him to a bed. Her room had blackout curtains for when she worked nights, so she'd put him in there.

"Sam," she spoke in a voice just above a whisper. "I know your head hurts, but we need to get you in bed. That medicine is going to make you really sleepy soon."

After a quick intake of breath, Sam attempted to respond. "St'y here," he murmured. "Hurts."

"I know, baby, but my bedroom is nice and dark, and I need to get your arm fixed back up. Britt and I will do most of the work, but we're going to need your help, okay? We'll take it slow."

Sam grunted and Cara took that as a sign of assent. Britt emerged from the bedroom with an eye roll and came back to the living room.

"Dean's still in bed – but under great protest," she reported. "I told him that if he knew what was good for him, he'd stay there or you'd kick his ass, pregnant or not."

Cara grinned, "I told him the same exact thing!" She gently moved Sam's head from her lap and started to rise from the floor. As she rose to her knees, a tightening in her belly stopped her. She gasped in surprise and pressed her hand to her growing belly.

"Cara, are you okay?" Britt asked in alarm. "Is it the baby?"

Sam's right hand reached for Cara, finding her leg. "Baby?" he asked, trying to force his eyes to open. "Hurt?" It was obvious that he was in agony, but his worry for her and the baby apparently came first.

"Baby's fine," Cara reassured them both as she moved Sam's hand up to her belly, covering it with her own. "She must have been feeling ignored, so she started kicking like crazy. Do you feel that, Sam?" she asked as she moved his hand to the spot where she felt the kicks.

Sam's eyes stayed closed, but his mouth quirked up in a small smile and he relaxed, knowing that they were both okay.

"Let's get you to the bed, Sam. We're going to help you sit up, okay?" she said as she brought his arm up to wrap around her neck. "One step at a time. "

She wrapped both arms around Sam's back and she pulled him up to a sitting position. He gasped in pain and his head rolled forward onto her shoulder. She could tell he was fighting to not pass out.

"Okay, sweetie, you're doing great. Britt's going to help me get you up and into the bedroom. It's not far. Then you can rest."

Sam nodded weakly into her shoulder. Britt rose to her feet and Cara moved so that she was kneeling while holding Sam against her. They got on each side of Sam and hoisted him slowly to his feet. He swayed precariously for a moment and it took them both to keep him from going back down. Cara wrapped her arms firmly around him and let him get his bearings. After taking the last few steps to the bedroom, they lowered him to the bed. Cara draped a blanket across him as Britt closed the blackout curtains. Sam was almost completely out by the time he hit the bed.

She smoothed his hair back and pressed a kiss to his forehead. "Sleep, baby. I'll be back soon."

As she turned to walk out of the room, Sam's hand snaked out to find hers. "Stay," he croaked weakly. "Please."

A quick glance at Britt was all she needed. One look told her what she wanted to know – that Britt would make sure Dean was okay for a little while.

"Of course," she assured him. Britt slipped out of the room, closing the door behind her. Before she got in the bed, Cara took a moment to check his arm. There didn't seem to be any new injuries, so she adjusted the splint and sling and tucked a pillow underneath. She went around the bed and climbed up on Sam's other side. He instinctively curled into her, breathing a deep sigh before he slipped off into drug-induced sleep.

Please review to let me know you're still interested in this story!


	9. Chapter 9

Thing 3 – I have a random collection of medical knowledge. My mother managed a doctor's office all my life and I worked there in high school and college. If I had gotten my ADD diagnosed earlier I may have had the dedication to go to med school (I was one that did just enough to get by). I haven't included Sam's visions in this. I tried to get away from too much of the "supernatural" stuff since I'm not as familiar with it. I get the impression that Sam's migraines would be much like his "hell episodes" that caused him to collapse, so that's where the migraine collapse came in. Sam doesn't do half-ass.

In the next chapter, we'll get to know Britt a little more and Dean gets coddled

CHAPTER 9

Britt entered the guest room and approached the bed. Dean's eyes were closed but she doubted he was asleep. She cleared her throat as a subtle clue that she was back, but he didn't respond. She checked his IV and "accidentally" jostled the bed. Dean's eyes flew open with the movement. Maybe he had dozed off.

She smiled at him. "Before you ask, Sam's asleep. Cara gave him the Imitrex and we got him to bed before he was out completely. Cara's lying down with him so I'm going to hang out with you for a little while."

Dean rubbed his eyes tiredly, looking all of four years old before he retorted, "I don't need a babysitter."

Britt just rolled her eyes with a smirk and continued working with the IV. "Your antibiotics are done for tonight and it's about time to change the bag of fluids. How are you feeling? Any pain?"

Dean hesitated a moment before answering. He was not used to reading her lips and she spoke quickly so it took a little longer to process. "Maybe a little better. Don't feel as fuzzy as I did earlier. My ankle is throbbing pretty bad," he admitted.

Britt pulled back the blankets and looked at his ankle. "Yeah, there's still some swelling. I'll see if Cara has any anti-inflammatories we can get you started on." She checked the bag of medical supplies and returned with a syringe that she injected into the IV port. "That should help with the swelling and the discomfort."

She paused in thought as she readjusted the blankets. She turned back to Dean and asked, "Are you thirsty? Do you want some water?" She held up three fingers in a 'w' shape and tapped them to her chin.

Dean's eyes widened. "You know ASL?"

"Little bit," Britt answered with a smile. "I'm kinda rusty though."

"How did you know? Did Cara tell you…you know…?" Dean asked as he tapped his index finger to his ear and then his cheek – the sign for "deaf."

"No, she didn't mention it. You had me fooled at first, but then I realized you were reading my lips." She was speaking a bit slower now. "My high school boyfriend was deaf and he always watched my lips when I talked. We were together for over 3 years so I got pretty good at signing, but it has been a long time."

Dean smiled, a bit surprised by this tiny firecracker of a woman. "They say it's like riding a bike," he teased.

"I guess we'll find out, won't we?" she retorted. "Mike - my boyfriend - read lips, but he didn't speak. He didn't like not knowing how he sounded. You speak so clearly."

"I was 9 when I lost my hearing. Sammy and I both had the chicken pox, but I had a more severe case. I had a double ear infection at the same time and then my fever got too high. I was in the hospital for almost two weeks."

"Wow," Britt breathed as she perched on the edge of the bed. "You were just a kid and had to deal with all that."

"My dad and Sammy kept me sane. My dad made me keep talking and we all learned ASL. Sam and I have always been really close, so it didn't take us long to figure out how to communicate. Sometimes I hear what I call "static" – rarely, I can hear a certain pitch or a really loud noise, but mostly it's just background noise. Like being underwater."

"Can you hear your own voice?" Britt asked, fascinated by this man she'd only just met. "I'm sorry, I'm being nosy. It's just that you sound so…"

"Normal?" Dean said, flashing a grin. "No, I can't hear myself either. I guess it's just practice. Sammy says when I'm really tired – or drunk – that it's not as clear. Sometimes I can't remember how to say words, or I don't know how a word is supposed to sound. That medicine you brought for Sam? I still don't know how to say that word." He chuckled at the confused look on Britt's face.

"I can't even figure out _how_ you would figure that out," she said, perplexed.

"Don't worry about it," he reassured her with a hand on her knee. "I'll get Sam to help me later. He's done this once or twice."

Britt nodded and patted his hand. "Not to change the subject, but I think your fluids are out. Before I change out the bag, do you need anything? Bathroom?"

"Yeah, that would probably be good," Dean answered. "And maybe a snack?"

"We can probably handle that. You look like you need some nourishment," she said with a wink.

Britt unhooked the IV and capped it off. Dean slowly pushed back the covers and she brought over his crutches. Britt was alarmed when she realized how weak Dean really was.

"Are you sure you want to get up?" she asked.

"Believe it or not, I'm actually doing better at this than I was earlier," he answered with a smirk. "I'll be okay, just gotta go slow."

Britt helped him up from the bed and held him steady as he got his bearings. She walked with him to the bathroom and then went in search of snacks. She returned with a pint of ice cream and two spoons and deposited them on the nightstand as Dean emerged from the bathroom.

Dean hobbled back to the bed and Britt got him settled. She was concerned by the trembling of his muscles and the sheen of sweat that popped out on his forehead. She could tell he was exhausted from the effort. She swiftly attached the new bag of fluids to his IV port and hung it up. She palmed Dean's face to check for fever and he opened his eyes.

"I'm okay," he said reassuringly. "You and Sam have matching concerned faces. I was in pretty bad shape, but I'm getting better. I promise I'm okay…just really tired."

Britt still seemed worried but she nodded. "You still up for ice cream?" she asked as she presented Dean with a spoon.

"Oh hell yeah," Dean answered.

She took the lid off the container and perched on the bed so they could share the cookies and cream ice cream. It had softened sitting under the lamp on the nightstand and Britt was grateful for that. She noticed how Dean's hand shook as he dipped out a spoonful and put it in his mouth.

"I've never been a big fan of cookies and cream," he said as he began scooping out another bite, "but this is awesome. It might be because I didn't eat for three days, but either way, it's really good."

Britt ate a bite as she realized what he said. "Wait, three days? What happened?"

"Sam and I work some pretty dangerous investigations. There was a …situation and I was captured. Keeping me fed wasn't exactly on their priority list." Dean really didn't want to go into it right then, so he hoped Britt would understand.

"So that's how you got hurt," Britt said as she gently ran her fingers over the bandages on Dean's wrist.

Dean nodded before shakily dipping into the ice cream again. He held the spoon in his mouth and quickly signed "Later," before going in for another bite.

Britt nodded. He didn't want to talk about it, so she took a more clinical approach. "Cara has you on IV fluids and antibiotics and we'll get the calories caught back up," she said with a pointed look at the ice cream and a quick smile, "but what else can I do? How can I help you, Dean?"

Dean was quiet for a minute and he abandoned his spoon in the ice cream container. His hand dropped back to the bed and Britt placed hers over it as his green eyes met hers. "You're doing it. You stayed with me, you're not pushing me to do the 'caring and sharing' thing, and you brought me the best damn ice cream I've ever had." His smile was genuine, if tired. She could see the sheer exhaustion on his face and it made her wonder even more about what had happened.

"You're not going to make me finish this by myself, are you?" she asked when Dean didn't retrieve his spoon.

He bit his lip and she noticed the fingers on his other hand slowly opening and closing and couldn't help but see how shaky they were.

"My hands – " he began, not really knowing what to say.

Britt nodded in understanding. "You may come to find that I'm not so good with the 'caring and sharing' crap myself, but this – a medical concern – I am well suited to handle." She gave him a quick smile. "So let's finish off this pint and we'll see what we can do for you, okay?" She traced her fingers over the subtle wrinkles on his forehead, accentuated by the discomfort he was in. He relaxed, enjoying her touch and he nodded.

Britt scooped out the last few bites of ice cream, alternating between feeding herself and Dean. Okay, so maybe she doubled up on his turns a couple of times, but he really needed the calories.

She placed the empty container and the spoons on the nightstand before she took Dean's hand gently in her own.

"Tell me what's going on with your hands. Do they hurt?" she asked as she examined his fingers, checking for discoloration or injuries. She suspected that the cause of Dean's pain was concealed under the bandages – it was quite obvious that he had been restrained – but she didn't want to push.

"They ache and it feels like I've got pins and needles in them." Dean's eyes met Britt's and she saw the agony he was experiencing. Dean continued.

"My hands were tied so tight. After the first day I couldn't really feel them. Since Sam found me and got me out, they've gotten better, but they're still weak." He spoke quietly, the emotional pain still raw in addition to the physical wounds.

Britt was gentle as she unwrapped the bandage from around his wrist to inspect the damage. "The color looks good and there doesn't seem to be any infection." She touched his other hand for a moment before continuing. "Your hands are a bit cold, but nothing serious. Can you squeeze my hand? Squeeze it hard." He tightened his grip and the tremors increased. "Okay, good. Does it hurt if I squeeze back?" She was relieved when he shook his head.

"That's good. The circulation was cut off for a while, so it's going to take a little time for your nerves to remember what to do. We've got to get the blood flowing through your hands again and wake them up, so to speak. I don't think there will be any permanent damage."

The relief in Dean's eyes was evident. "That's good to hear…figuratively speaking, of course," he replied with a smirk, lightening the moment. Britt rolled her eyes, but laughed at the lame joke. She began to methodically massage Dean's arm, starting just below the elbow and working down, careful to avoid the healing wounds.

"This will help," she told him. "Tell me if it hurts and I'll stop."

"Please don't," Dean said sleepily. "'M full, 'm warm, and 'm gettin' a massage from a beautiful woman. My life is complete." He winked as Britt laughed.

"Such a charmer," she said. "I don't usually make house calls, so consider yourself privileged."

"Too tired f'r big words. Miss'd last half of that sent'nce."

Britt put his hand down and signed it, spelling the word 'privileged' since she couldn't remember the sign for it.

"Ah, privileged," Dean repeated. "Sweetheart, you don' know the half 'f it."

Britt switched over and began to work on his other hand. She knew he was about to fall asleep, so she worked quickly. Dean flexed the hand she had just finished working on.

"How does that feel?" she asked.

"'S good," he replied, his words slurring together more. "N't as tingly. Think 'm gon' fall 'sleep."

"Go ahead," she said softly as she finished massaging his hand and placed it on the bed. "I'll be here when you wake up." She smoothed back his hair as his eyes closed and he was out. She wrapped his wrists carefully and was pleased to find that his hands were a bit warmer. She switched off the bedside lamp and took the ice cream carton and spoons back to the kitchen. She tossed the carton in the trash and put the spoons in the dishwasher. She grabbed a diet cola from the fridge and was heading back to the guest room when Cara emerged from her bedroom.

"Hey, how's Sam?" Britt asked as her friend rummaged through the cabinets. Cara extracted a jar of crunchy peanut butter and got a spoon.

"Sorry, Baby Girl here is hungry," she said apologetically as she spooned a big bite of peanut butter into her mouth. After she swallowed, she answered Britt's question. "He's sleeping. I expected the Imitrex to really wipe him out, but he's been restless. I think he's having nightmares."

Britt could see the worry in her friend's eyes. "That dose probably wasn't quite enough for him," she said. "I don't know if you've noticed, but your 'friend' Sam is a bit larger than me." Britt smirked as she sipped her drink.

Cara rolled her eyes. "You're a smartass, you know that?" Britt nodded proudly. "How about Dean? You two getting along?" Cara was surprised to see the emotion in Britt's eyes at the mention of Sam's brother. Her friend was normally pretty stoic.

"Cara…" she started and bit her lip. "I don't know what happened to them, but Dean - he's – I don't know – " She stopped when she saw the look of panic on her friend's face. "No! He's okay. That came out wrong. He's sleeping."

Cara slumped against the counter. "Don't do that!" she scolded. "It's not nice to scare a pregnant woman!"

"I'm sorry," Britt said with an apologetic smile. "Medically, or physically, or whatever, he's hanging in there. But Cara, he's hurt badly. He didn't tell me the whole story, but he's been through hell."

Cara nodded in agreement. "They both have. I'm not sure I even got the whole story, but I'm just so relieved that I was working today. If I hadn't been there, they'd still be holed up in that crappy motel room trying to patch each other up. I never imagined I'd see Sam again, much less in the ER, but I guess fate is a funny thing."

"So what did he say about the baby?" Britt asked, not beating around the bush.

Cara's eyes teared up involuntarily – damn hormones – and she smiled. "He was surprised, but he wants us to be a family. We didn't get to talk much between the sedatives, the bone-setting, and the migraine, but he said he's not going anywhere."

Britt teared up too as she wrapped her friend in a hug. "Oh Cara, that's wonderful," she breathed. This subject was always sensitive for her, but she was so happy that Cara would have Sam to help her raise the baby.

"I know it's hard for you, ever since – " Cara started, but the lump in her throat stopped her.

"No, Cara, do not even try to apologize. You deserve to be happy. Your baby deserves to have her Daddy. What happened was horrible, but this is something to celebrate," Britt blinked back her tears and nodded resolutely. She would not cry for him right now when her friend had such happy news.

Cara knew a subject-change was needed. "So…Dean?" she asked. "Is the saline out?"

Britt cleared her throat, grateful for the save. "Yeah, I changed it about an hour ago. He got up and went to the bathroom and we had ice cream. After finding out that he didn't eat for three days, I made sure he ate most of the pint."

"He needed the calories," Cara rationalized with an understanding nod. And that was why they were best friends.

"I checked his ankle and it's a mess. Tons of inflammation. I think an x-ray would be a good idea."

Cara nodded again. "You're the ortho girl. I knew you could handle this."

Britt stood there, lost in thought as she went back over the time she had spent with Dean.

"Britt, what is it? You've got this weird…gooey look on your face."

Britt snorted. "Gooey?"

"Yeah, gooey. Like Caylee-skinned-her-knee-and-Mommy-can't-make-it-better gooey."

Britt tried to figure out how to put her thoughts into words. "I guess that's pretty close. He's hurt so badly, in so many places, and I just want to fix it for him."

Cara nodded. "I understand that. Sam and Dean have not had easy lives. Did you figure out that Dean's deaf?"

"Yeah, thanks for the heads-up on that," Britt teased. "He told me about it when I broke out some sign language. I realized he was reading my lips like Mike did."

"Oh yeah, totally forgot about Mike," Cara said around another mouthful of peanut butter. "Well, that's pretty convenient."

"I guess so. I better get back in there," Britt said as she finished off her drink.

"You're staying?"

"Caylee is with Mom and Dad until tomorrow afternoon and I don't want Dean to be alone. I have to work in the morning, but I'll run home and change before I go. You go stay with Sam and I'll stay with Dean," Britt said, not wanting to back down on her word.

"Are you sure?" Cara asked. "You need sleep, too."

"I told Dean I'd be there when he woke up and I'm going to keep my promise. I'll get in your big comfy recliner and I'll be fine. You know I can sleep anywhere."

Cara couldn't argue - she had once found Britt asleep sitting up on a gurney in the hallway at the hospital. "Okay, as long as you're sure."

"I am. I just can't leave him like this. I get the impression that he always takes care of himself and everybody else. He needs somebody to take care of him for a change."

"You're a good woman, Britt McKinley," Cara said as she hugged her friend. "If you need anything or if something happens with Dean, come get me."

"We'll be fine," Britt assured her. "Go on back to bed with your… we'll have to figure out Sam's title later because all I'm coming up with is 'baby daddy.'" Britt smirked as Cara pretended to be offended and then grinned.

"Night," Cara called as she headed back to her room.

"Night," Britt responded as she walked back to the guest room. She slipped in quietly and made herself comfortable in the recliner. She turned the ringer on her phone to vibrate and set the alarm so she could run home and shower before she had to be at the clinic tomorrow morning. She slipped it in the pocket of her scrub top before settling down and closing her eyes. Right before she drifted off, she realized that she had set her phone on vibrate so it wouldn't wake up the deaf guy. She rolled her eyes inwardly. "Smooth move, Britt," she said to herself.


	10. Chapter 10

CHAPTER 10

It hadn't been too long after Britt dozed off when she was roused by Dean's voice.

"Dean?" she called, thinking he was awake (and maybe forgetting that he can't hear her). She got out of the chair and went to the bed. The room was dark but she could see that his eyes were closed tightly and his body was thrashing in the sheets.

"Pl'se stop," he murmured. "Don't know."

Her heart clenched as she realized he was having a nightmare about being held captive.

"S'm," he almost sobbed. "S'mmy, help me."

Britt wiped a tear from her cheek as she gently placed her hand on his chest. She didn't want to startle him, but she couldn't let him be trapped in that dream another moment. She rubbed her palm gently on his chest but he didn't rouse. She moved her hand to squeeze his shoulder and jumped when his eyes flew open.

"No," he called as his eyes searched the dark room frantically. "I can't - please, don't know. Stop."

Britt tried to calm him, but in the dark he didn't realize that he was out and safe. She flipped on the lamp by the bed quickly and sat down beside him.

"Shh," she soothed, taking his hand and giving him a chance to wake up. "It's okay. You're safe."

Dean blinked a few times at the assault of light and Britt knew the moment that he was back with her. The grip on her hand tightened and his body relaxed.

She placed her free hand on his cheek and squeezed his hand back. "It's me. You're here with me and you're safe, Dean. Do you understand?"

Taking a deep breath, Dean nodded. "Britt," he whispered. "You're still here. 'm sorry I woke you up."

"Don't apologize," she said, taking in the haunted look in his eyes. "And I'm not going anywhere tonight. Are you okay?"

"Yeah," he answered unconvincingly. "Jus' a dream."

"You were dreaming about it, weren't you?" she asked gently, stroking his hair. She didn't have to say what "it" was.

Dean nodded. His voice was deep as he answered. "I was there again and it was so dark. I couldn't see anything and I couldn't move and I couldn't hear them. One of them smashed my ankle and another just kept hitting me. I don't know what they wanted and they just kept on hitting and cutting. I was so tired and everything hurt so much and they didn't listen when I said I was deaf." He swallowed thickly and wiped his eyes. "I just kept hoping that somehow Sammy would find me and get me out of there."

"He did and you're both safe now," Britt assured him. "I'm so sorry that you had to go through all that, and I'm sorry that you had to relive it."

Dean just nodded. Britt continued, sensing that he wasn't ready to talk just then. "Sam is still sleeping. Cara said he was a little restless so I sent her back to bed with him." She didn't mention Sam's nightmares; Dean didn't need anything else to worry about.

"That's good," Dean answered. "I know he hasn't gotten much sleep lately. That sometimes triggers his headaches even without a concussion to screw things up."

Dean fell silent and Britt could tell he was thinking about something.

"I'm sorry I flipped out like that," Dean said after a moment, embarrassed about his breakdown. "It seemed so real, and then even after I woke up, I still couldn't figure out where I was or what had happened."

Britt gave him a reassuring smile. "It's okay," she said firmly. "You're allowed to be a little messed up after what you went through."

Dean huffed a laugh at that and squeezed Britt's hand.

"So what can I do?" she asked. "I've officially exhausted all my 'sharing and caring' for the day, so you gotta help me out here. You ready to sleep or do you want to stay up for a while?"

Dean's eyelids were so heavy. "I'm tired but I'm – I don't want to dream about that again."

"How about this? I can give you something to help you sleep. You shouldn't have any more dreams and it'll help you sleep through the night," she offered.

Dean nodded and she rose from the bed to check through the medical supplies Cara brought home. She found what she was looking for and injected it into the IV line. Once she had done that she got him a glass of water from the kitchen and helped him drink a few sips before placing the glass on the nightstand. She turned on a lamp on the other side of the room before turning off the one beside the bed. "Is it okay to leave that on?" she asked, knowing that the dark had made him disoriented earlier.

Dean nodded gratefully. "Thanks," he said sincerely as the medicine started to make him sleepier.

"Anything else I can do?" she asked as she rubbed his arm. She was impressed that his eyes were still open, but he hadn't taken them off her.

"Stay?" he asked.

"I'll be right there," she said pointing to the recliner. "I'm not going anywhere until morning."

Dean looked as though he wanted to say something else, but was thinking about it.

"Go ahead and say it," she prompted with a smile.

"Will you – I don't want to – I'm not trying – ugh," he said running a hand over his face. "I know you just met me, but when you're here I know this is real. I'm not trying to be a perv or make a move, but – " He just couldn't get the words out.

Britt let go of his hand and walked around to the other side of the bed. She slipped off her shoes. "Do you mind if I lay down with you? No pervy stuff, I promise," she said with a wink.

Dean's smile was all she needed as she slipped onto the bed beside him. She was pretty small, so there was plenty of space. She turned, making sure he could see her mouth before she spoke.

"If you need anything during the night, don't hesitate to wake me up. I'll be right here," she said as she placed her hand into his.

"Thank you," he answered hoarsely. "For everything."

"Sleep well," she said as she squeezed his hand. His eyes closed and she said a silent prayer that his dreams would be peaceful. She lay down next to him thinking about this amazing man who had seen so much suffering in his life.

It had been two years since Brian was taken away from her. After he died, she had built a wall inside so that she couldn't be hurt like that again. Lying here beside this man she had only known for a few hours, she thought that maybe, just maybe, Dean might have jumped over that wall in one leap.


	11. Chapter 11

CHAPTER 11

Britt was roused by the sound of a deep voice calling her name. She was confused for a moment, but then it all came back to her. Dean.

She opened her eyes to see him looking at her. She smiled sleepily. "Good morning," she said softly. She noticed that her hand was still in his.

"Good morning," Dean replied. "You going to turn off that alarm before you wake up the whole house?"

"Hmm?" Britt questioned before remembering her phone in her scrub pocket. Dean must have felt the vibrations. She pulled it out and turned off the alarm. "Guess I was sleeping hard. I didn't even feel it."

"Did you turn off the ringer?" Dean asked suspiciously.

"Maybe," Britt said with a smirk. "I didn't want it to disturb y…I mean… Cara and Sam."

"Right," Dean teased. "Because you'd hate for your alarm to wake up the deaf guy."

Britt narrowed her eyes at him. "Smartass," she said playfully. "It's not my fault you seem so normal and I forget. Sorry I woke you up with my silent alarm."

"It's okay," he said sincerely. "I'm a light sleeper. I keep my phone on vibrate – obviously – so at first I thought it was mine."

Britt nodded and noticed that he seemed better today. "How are you feeling?"

"Okay," Dean answered truthfully. "Not quite as weak as I was yesterday. No more nightmares either." He squeezed her hand meaningfully.

Britt smiled in relief as she sat up to face him. "That's great. The fluids and rest seem to be working. I'd like to get your ankle x-rayed today. I'm worried about it. I know you're not crazy about hospitals, but we can go to my office and check it. We have everything there to get you fixed up, and Sam needs his arm casted, too."

Dean considered her words. His ankle really did hurt and he suspected it might be broken. "Okay," he agreed. "Just to your office though."

"I promise," Britt answered. "I have to go get ready for work, but I'll be back around noon to pick you and Sam up. I'll have seen all my patients by then and the clinic will be clear. Cara goes in to work in a couple of hours and she can meet us at the clinic when she's done. She's working a short shift today. I think she has an OB appointment after lunch."

Dean nodded and started to move in the bed. Britt got up and went around the bed. "Bathroom?" she asked.

"Figured I better take advantage of you while you're still here," he replied with a wink.

"Oh really?" Britt smirked. "I see how it is." She noted the empty saline bag and decided to go ahead and remove the IV. "I'm going to take this out. Maybe now that we've topped you off, you won't need it anymore." She slid the needle out carefully and held pressure on it before taping the gauze in place.

"Let's hope," Dean said as he slid his legs over the edge of the bed.

After his trip to the bathroom, Britt helped him get settled back in the bed.

"It's still pretty early," she said. "Go ahead and sleep a couple more hours." She picked up his phone and programmed her number in before handing it to him. "Make sure this stays with you and text me if you need anything."

Dean nodded as he put the phone close to him on the bed. "Thanks for staying," he said quietly.

"I'm glad I could help," Britt replied. "I'll see you in a few hours. Get some rest, okay?"

Dean smiled and nodded. She could tell he was already drifting off and she headed for the door. Just as she opened the door, he called her name.

"Britt?"

She turned back, hand still on the doorknob. His eyes were closed, but she saw the smirk on his face.

"Don't forget to turn your ringer back on."

Sam awoke to the sound of the shower running. It took a moment to figure out where he was through the haze in his brain. Cara's house. He'd had a migraine. She must have given him Imitrex. It always made him feel a little fuzzy when he woke up. His head felt pretty good, considering, and his arm only ached a bit. She must have given him something for pain, too, and he was grateful. It was a nice change to be in a comfortable bed and not in excruciating pain.

He turned his head slowly and looked at the clock. 7:03. He could just barely see the daylight seeping in around the curtains. He heard the shower turn off and a few moments later Cara emerged from the bathroom in her pajamas, wet hair still wrapped in a towel.

She was surprised to see Sam awake and gave him a big smile.

"Good morning," she said as she came over to sit on the bed.

"Good morning," Sam answered as he smiled and put his hand on her belly. "And good morning to you too, little girl."

Cara blinked furiously to keep the tears from spilling out. Sam noticed and pulled his hand back.

"Um, I'm sorry..." he began and Cara cut him off with a laugh.

"No, Sam," she said as she placed his hand back on her belly. "It's the hormones. I always thought that was kind of a crock, but they aren't playing about that pregnancy-emotion crap. Those were happy tears."

Sam sighed in relief. "Good," he said. "For a second there I thought I freaked you out. And that was going to be a problem because after feeling our baby move last night I'm not going to be able to keep my hands off you."

"I like the sound of that," Cara said with a smirk. "How are you feeling?"

"Surprisingly good," Sam answered. "My arm aches a little but probably not as much as it should thanks to whatever you gave me."

"That's great. My friend, Britt - I don't know if you remember her being here last night -"

"Vaguely," Sam answered.

"Well, Britt is an orthopedic surgeon and she wants to x-ray Dean's ankle. She called a few minutes ago and she has cleared her office this afternoon to check Dean's ankle and cast your arm. She'll be here a little after eleven to pick you two up. I have a shift until noon and I'll meet you at the clinic."

"How's Dean?" Sam asked.

"Britt says he's better today. He got some good rest last night and she took out the IV this morning."

"She came back this morning to check on him?" he asked.

"She never left," Cara said. "She refused to go home last night and insisted that she would stay with Dean so I could stay with you."

"Wow, that's impressive, even for Dean," he said with a wry smile. "Even hurt and everything he managed to get her in his bed."

"Sam," Cara scolded teasingly and then added sarcastically, "They're 'just friends.' Britt swears."

"Right," Sam said with a snort and Cara grinned.

"So do you feel like taking a shower?" Cara asked. "I have an ultrasound this afternoon and I'd like to come with me if you feel up to it."

"Yes to the shower, and definitely to the ultrasound. I'd love to see our little girl," Sam answered as the reality hit. His little girl. Wow.


	12. Chapter 12

This is a short one, so I'm posting 2 chapters. Thanks for reading and reviewing! Sam and Dean get a visitor in Chapter 13 and the brothers must make some decisions about the future.

CHAPTER 12

Sam slipped into the guest room after seeing Cara off. It was strange doing the whole "white picket fence" thing, but as he kissed Cara goodbye he realized he could definitely get used to it. Dean was still asleep so he settled himself in the recliner and thought about the conversation ahead of him. There was no way now that he could leave Cara and their baby, so they had to figure out where to go from here.

After a few minutes, Dean's phone buzzed and he roused to grab it.

"Hey Sammy," he said sleepily as he noticed his brother in the room. "You look better."

"I feel better," Sam replied. "How about you? Cara said you were doing better today."

Dean smiled as he read the text message on his phone. He returned his attention to his brother and answered.

"Yeah, I got good sleep last night. Britt took out the IV this morning and I'm moving around a little easier." He paused to type a response on his phone before continuing. "Still pretty weak and tired but I think the worst is over."

"That's great," Sam said. "Cara said that Britt is going to give us the two-for-one special this afternoon. I'm glad she's going to check your ankle."

"I'm not particularly thrilled about a doctor visit, but I'm pretty sure it's broken. Britt can check it at her office and we can get your arm casted, so I guess it won't be too bad." Dean's phone pulsed again and he huffed a laugh after reading the message.

"Who are you talking to?" Sam asked, curious about his brother's strange behavior. Dean wasn't big on texting and usually got Sam to do it for him.

"Britt. She had to work this morning but was checking in on me. She said she'll be here about 11:15. She was just telling me not to take a shower until she got here to "Dean-proof" it. Her words."

Sam laughed. "I guess that's one way to put it. Cara helped me get my arm covered and then helped me with clothes after the shower, but you're going to need more help than that."

Dean typed another response to Britt before he placed his phone on the nightstand and pushed back the covers. Sam automatically rose to help his brother.

"I need food," Dean announced as he signed 'hungry.' "Oh, and did you know Britt knows ASL?"

"Really?" Sam answered. "No, I don't really remember meeting Britt, so I definitely didn't know that. Wow."

"Yeah, she dated a deaf guy in high school," Dean said. "First person who has ever caught on to me reading her lips."

"Impressive," Sam said seriously. Dean had never had anyone figure out that he was deaf before.

"She definitely is," Dean said with a smile. He took Sam's good hand as he sat up in the bed and put his feet on the floor.

"I can't wait to meet her…you know, when I'm not drugged," Sam said as he helped Dean stand up and passed him the crutches. "She must be something special to have you this tangled up in her after just a few hours."

Dean opened his mouth to deny it, but realized that he was pretty tangled, so he just replied, "Bitch."

"Jerk," Sam answered with a smile as they walked slowly out of the bedroom.


	13. Chapter 13

CHAPTER 13

A few minutes later the brothers were settled in the living room with their breakfast. Sam had found a box of s'mores Pop Tarts and gotten himself and Dean a pack each. Cara had also made coffee before she left, so he fixed a couple of cups.

Dean had hobbled to the couch and gotten his leg propped up on the ottoman. He was feeling stronger today, but the journey still tired him out. He gratefully accepted the coffee Sam brought and looked curiously at the Pop Tarts.

"They're actually pretty good," Sam said, answering his unspoken question.

Dean's face was skeptical as he bit into the pastry, but his eyebrows quickly rose in pleasure.

"Well hot damn," he replied with a mouth full of s'mores. "They are pretty good."

There was a comfortable silence as the brothers had breakfast and sipped on coffee. After a few minutes, Dean spoke quietly.

"Thanks for coming for me, Sammy," he said as he signed the words.

"Always," Sam replied genuinely. "Dean, I was so scared. I looked everywhere, and then I found the Impala on the side of the road. There was no evidence, no clues, nothing to help me find you for three days."

"But you did," Dean reminded him. "You found me, Sam. I knew you wouldn't give up on me."

Sam nodded. "When I got to that house, to that room, for a split second I thought I was too late. You were so still. Every time I close my eyes I still see you there on the floor. In my dreams, I never make it in time. This one was too close." He leaned forward, dropping his head into his good hand.

Dean carefully lowered his leg to the floor and slid forward to reach his brother. He put his hand on the back of Sam's neck reassuringly.

Dean's voice cracked a bit as he spoke, but Sam would pretend he didn't notice it. "Yeah, it was too close," he agreed. Sam's eyes came up to meet Dean's. He saw the unshed tears of fear and worry in Sam's eyes. "I was terrified. We've been in crappy situations before, but this one was the worst because I was alone and helpless and so damn scared that you wouldn't find me."

Dean took a shaky breath before he continued. "I'm tired of this life, Sam. I'm tired of the constant fear and pain and loss. I want out."

"Dean, -" Sam started to say, but his brother cut him off.

"Not out of life," he clarified, "out of 'the life.' I'm tired of living out of motel rooms and always making sacrifices with nothing in return. I'm getting too old to live on four hours of sleep and crappy coffee to keep me going. And now you have a baby on the way and you've got a shot at the whole apple pie life."

"I want out, too," Sam said. "I can't leave Cara and the baby. I was afraid you'd want to keep hunting and that I'd have to choose. Now maybe I can have it all. You sure you're ready to settle down?"

"Honestly, no," Dean answered with a smirk. "But I want to try. I'd never ask you to leave your child, but I couldn't go back to hunting without you. We've tried being apart and it doesn't work. I can't lose you again."

Sam ran his hand through his hair. "So we're doing this?" he asked. "We're settling down and doing the white picket fence thing?"

"Looks that way," Dean said with a smile. "I have a good feeling about this. Maybe for once in our lives, we're right where we're supposed to be."

In that moment, the rustling of feathers announced Castiel's arrival in the living room. The brothers looked at him in surprise.

"Dean," Cas said in greeting. "Sam."

"Cas, what the hell, man?" Dean asked incredulously. "Where have you been? We needed you and Angel Radio was off the air."

"I do not have time to explain. I was sent here to give you a message. This will be our last meeting."

"What?" the brothers asked simultaneously. Cas held up a hand to silence them.

"My Father has returned to Heaven. He is pleased with the work you have done here on Earth to protect His creations. Because of your diligence and the sacrifices of all hunters, He was able to eradicate all supernatural creatures from the Earth. No longer will your world be plagued by demons, vampires, werewolves, ghouls, wraiths, or malevolent spirits. The Earth is safe for all humankind."

The brothers were stunned. Sam found his voice first. "You mean, we are no longer needed?"

"Precisely. As a reward for your bravery and sacrifice, my Father has ensured that you both will lead long, happy lives. You will no longer need to hunt and may choose the path to your own happiness. He has also ensured that your criminal records have been cleared, so you are safe to use the Winchester name proudly. The assailants who attacked you have also been dealt with. They were sent by rogue angels to try to derail my Father's plan. The angels have been punished and the humans have been turned over to law enforcement and will not be a threat to anyone again."

Castiel disappeared for a moment and then reappeared holding a duffle bag. "Again, this will be my last time on Earth. I have been recalled to Heaven to serve my Father. It has been an honor to know you both. On behalf of my Father, here are a few items to help with your new life. I wish you the best." He placed the bag on the coffee table and was gone.

Dean and Sam sat there for a moment just staring at one another. This was a lot to process. Dean finally snagged the duffle bag and opened it.

He reached in and pulled out papers, envelopes, keys, and photographs. Dean handed the photos to Sam before opening one of the envelopes.

"Holy shit," he breathed as he extracted the items from the envelope. New IDs, debit cards, credit cards, insurance cards, even a concealed weapons permit in his name. His real name. The other envelope contained an identical set for Sam.

The keys were on a ring labeled with a local bank's name, so they must be to safe deposit boxes. They'd have to check into that later. Upon leafing through the papers, he found bank statements for accounts with large amounts of money in them. He passed those to Sam, whose eyes widened upon seeing the numbers.

"Resumes, diplomas, letters of recommendation, transcripts," he listed as he continued to look through paperwork. "It's all here, Sam. Looks like the Big Guy thought of everything."

"And then some," Sam said as he passed the photographs back to Dean. "These are old family pictures. Pictures that were lost in the fire."

Dean teared up as he looked at the photos. This was just too good to be true. These were pictures of Mom and Dad when they were dating, pictures of Mom when she was pregnant, pictures of a four-year-old Dean holding baby Sammy. He put the pictures aside and looked at Sam.

"I don't even know what to say," he said with a slightly hysterical laugh. "This feels like a dream - a good one for a change."

Sam smiled. "I know what you mean. We'll have to look through all this stuff again later. I'm too overwhelmed right now, and Britt will be here soon."

Dean nodded in agreement. "Glad she wasn't here when Cas popped in. That would have been hard to explain."

Sam chuckled. "It's going to be hard enough to explain how we got so rich working for the government."

At that moment, Sam's phone rang. "Bobby," he said as he answered the call. Dean didn't bother trying to read Sam's lips, instead waiting for the call to end.

Sam hung up and turned to his brother. "Bobby just got an unusual visit," he told Dean with a smirk.


	14. Chapter 14

CHAPTER 14

Britt got there a few minutes later. Sam had gathered up their "gift" and put it in the trunk of the Impala until they had a chance to deal with it.

Dean was slumped down on the sofa, his feet propped up on the ottoman, when Britt came in.

"Hey," she said with a smile. "It's good to see you up and around."

Dean returned the smile. "Yeah, change of scenery is nice."

Britt sat down on the edge of the ottoman by Dean's legs. "Have you eaten anything?"

"Sam fixed us breakfast. Pop Tarts and coffee," he answered.

"Yum. Breakfast of champions," Britt said with a smirk. "How are you feeling? You up for a shower?"

"I feel okay. Still pretty run down but better. I don't know if I'm going to be able to hold out for a full shower but I want to try. It's been like a week since I had one," he said with a wink.

"We'll do what we can. Let's get you up and head that way," Britt said as she rose and got the crutches. "We'll take off the bandages and then redress them after your bath. If nothing else, you can have a good sponge bath, but I think I've figured out a plan for the shower."

"Sponge bath, huh?" Dean asked with a suggestive grin. "I like the sound of that."

Britt rolled her eyes as she helped Dean to his feet. They moved slowly into the bedroom and then to the bathroom where she had Dean sit on the low counter. Thanks to his height, it was easy to slide up between the sinks.

Britt began unwrapping the bandages on his wrists first. "How are your hands today?" she asked. She pulled his t-shirt up and he helped her remove it.

"A little better," Dean answered as he moved his fingers. "Still weak and tingly sometimes, but they don't ache as much."

"That's great," Britt said as she started taking off the bandages from the stitched wounds on his arms and chest. "Damn," she muttered.

"What?" Dean asked, slightly alarmed.

"Sorry," Britt apologized. "I didn't realize I said that out loud. I had noticed the bandages, but I guess I didn't think about what was under them." She traced her fingers gently near the neat row of stitches across his bicep. "Sam did these?"

"Yeah, he did those after he set my dislocated ankle," Dean answered with a smirk.

"He set your ankle?" Britt asked incredulously. "Wow. Did he go to med school or something?"

"Close. Our dad was a Marine and believed in the value of field medicine. Our job has a lot of hazards, so unfortunately we've both had plenty of experience with basic first aid. And not-so-basic first aid," he added.

"He did a great job. These stitches look like a plastic surgeon might have done them and he did a good job fixing your ankle. Not to mention the fact that he probably had to fight off shock and maybe a concussion."

"No concussion this time," Dean said.

"Well, there's one thing we can mark off the list," Britt teased. "Is there any part of you that isn't covered in cuts and bruises?"

Dean opened his mouth but she cut him off.

"Wait, don't answer that," she said. "Help me with your sweatpants."

Dean lifted his hips so that she could slide off the pants. There were more bruises and bandages concealed underneath. The contusions on his lower body seemed to be deeper, like he had been kicked. She had him lean forward so she could examine his back. She pressed gently on the bruises coloring his sides and lower back, but he didn't seem to have any internal damage. The contusions on his legs were tender, but not indicative of any further trauma. His ankle was deeply bruised and she was glad he had agreed to let her check it. The swelling had reduced, so that meant she should be able to cast it if it proved to be broken.

Once she had all the bandages off, she gave Dean a once-over. He was sitting there in nothing but his boxers on the counter - pale, bruised, and battered, and he still managed to look gorgeous.

"You're a mess," she said with a sad smile.

"That's one of the nicer things I've been called," he joked. "I'll be good as new in a few weeks. Might have a couple new scars, but that will make me look like a badass."

"Yeah, that's exactly what you need," Britt said sarcastically. "Sit right there while I set up the shower. You still feeling up to it?"

"I think so," Dean answered honestly. "You might have to come rescue me, though," he said with a wink.

It took some maneuvering and several towels, but Britt managed to get Dean in and out of the shower with his dignity preserved and no additional injuries. He had on clean boxers and she could tell he had used up almost all of his strength. She helped him get to the recliner and he gratefully sat down. She popped out the footrest and had him lie back.

"Rest for a few minutes and then you can get dressed," she said as she smoothed his hair back. His skin was clammy and his face was tense with pain and exhaustion. He nodded tiredly and closed his eyes as he waited for the feeling to pass.

Britt gathered up the wet towels and took them to Cara's laundry room. She returned for Dean's sheets before starting a load of laundry.

She went back in the living room to find Sam sitting on the couch reading the newspaper.

"I don't think we officially met last night," she said as she sat down in the chair across from Sam. "You were a bit out of it."

Sam smiled. "You could say that. I vaguely remember you being here. I guess you provided the Imitrex?"

"Yeah, I'm sorry it wasn't the right dose. Maybe I should have brought two," she said with an embarrassed laugh.

"No problem," Sam answered. "You had no way of knowing it was for someone twice your size."

They laughed. "Thanks, though," Sam said seriously. "For the medicine and for watching out for Dean. He watches out for everyone else, but he forgets to take care of himself sometimes."

"My pleasure," Britt said honestly. "Your brother is an amazing person. I can tell he's been through a lot. Despite his own injuries, you were still his first priority last night."

"How is he doing?" Sam asked. "He always gives me the token 'I'm good' answer, but I want the medical report."

"His ankle is a mess. I'll be really surprised if we don't find a fracture," Britt began. "His hands are getting better and the lacerations and bruises are healing well. You did an exceptional job on the stitches."

Sam looked down and smiled self-consciously. Britt went on.

"He made it through the shower, but it wore him out. He's in the recliner resting for a few minutes and then we can get him dressed and head out."

She paused for a minute before continuing. "He had a nightmare last night and woke up calling for you. I don't know all the details of what happened, but I'm glad you found him when you did," she said softly. "It's still haunting you both, isn't it?"

Sam nodded, not trusting his voice for a moment.

"I saw Dean's scars – the old ones. He told me you've both had injuries in the past."

Sam cleared his throat. "We work a dangerous job, but somehow this was different. When I found him, for a split second I thought I was too late. They had beaten the hell out of him and he was so dehydrated. Every time I fall asleep, I go back to that house. It could have ended so badly."

Britt blinked back tears. Again. These brothers made her mushy. "To lose someone so close to you is terrifying. It's totally normal for you both to be having a hard time with this, but Sam, don't forget that you did make it in time. You found Dean and you saved his life. That's worth celebrating. Don't waste time torturing yourself with what could have happened."

Sam nodded. They fell silent for a moment.

"Well, it was nice to officially meet you," Sam said with a smirk. Britt huffed a laugh as she wiped her face.

"Yeah, that was a great first conversation, wasn't it?" she said, rising from the chair. "Let's go get Dean."


	15. Chapter 15

CHAPTER 15

Britt helped Dean to his feet and handed him the crutches. She had helped him get dressed in black sweatpants and a t-shirt and had put a running shoe on his good foot. Sam led the way to the door as Britt kept a hand on Dean's back to steady him. They went out the front door and loaded into Britt's 4Runner. It wasn't the Impala, but it was comfortable - much more appropriately sized for Sam's long legs. Dean insisted on sitting in the backseat so he could put his leg up and Sam complied. Once Dean was settled behind Britt with his leg stretched out on the seat, Sam climbed into the passenger seat. He was able to slide the seat back and sighed in comfort. He knew Dean would punch him in the face if he said it, but they really needed larger transportation.

They arrived at the clinic adjacent to the hospital and saw Cara waiting out front. Now that he wasn't so overcome with pain and could think straight, he was able to appreciate how beautiful she was, even 7 months pregnant and wearing hospital scrubs. If anything, the pregnancy had added to her beauty. He rolled his eyes internally at the cliché, but she was glowing.

As Britt parked the car and got out, Cara came to Sam and opened his door. "Hey," she said with a smile and pulled Sam's face to hers in a passionate (but publicly appropriate) kiss.

Sam grinned as Dean made gagging noises in the backseat. "Well, good morning to you too," he teased.

"Sorry, hormones," Cara replied with a somewhat embarrassed smirk.

"Oh, feel free to greet me like that anytime," Sam assured her. "Anytime."

"Get a room," Dean grumbled as Britt helped him out of the backseat.

"Karma's a bitch, huh?" Sam smirked toward his brother. "This is for all the over-shares about your past 'conquests', brother."

The four walked into the clinic, still laughing and joking. There were definite benefits to being friends with the boss. Britt had seen her priority patients early that morning and then cleared her schedule for the rest of the day, so they went straight back.

After x-rays for both brothers, Cara and Britt stood in front of the computer screen analyzing the scans. Because Sam's arm had already been set and would hopefully just need to be casted, they started with him. The x-rays showed that the bones had stayed in place despite his fall the night before.

"It looks slightly better than I expected," Britt said with a smile. "Cara did a good job setting it and there doesn't seem to be any damage from your crash landing. Because of the injury to your elbow, I'm going to cast it the way it is splinted now. In two weeks we'll take that cast off and put a short one on for about four more weeks until the bones in your arm have healed."

"Sounds like fun," Dean teased.

"Watch it, you're next," Sam reminded him.

Britt got to work. Cara supported Sam's arm while she removed the splint. The bruising was quite impressive, but the swelling had gone down. There was still a small lump where the fractures were, but Britt assured him that the residual swelling would go away and it would be back to normal when the cast came off.

Sam chose a navy blue colored roll of casting material and Britt dropped it in the water to soak. She wrapped cotton around his arm and then followed it with the fiberglass casting tape. Soon the procedure was done and Cara helped her fit Sam's arm back into the sling.

"How long do I need the sling?" Sam asked.

"You'll want to wear it for at least a week to give your shoulder time to heal. Besides the dislocation, it is mildly sprained. It wouldn't hurt to wear it until we take the long cast off, just to reduce the strain on your shoulder and elbow."

Sam nodded. He knew he needed it right now, but he also knew that after a few days it would be a pain in the ass having his arm completely immobile. He'd play it by ear.

"And luckily, since you know the owner of this place, you got the extra-special treatment. That cast is waterproof, so you won't have to worry too much about getting it wet," Britt said with a smirk as she went to the computer to check Dean's x-rays.

Sam rose from the exam table and helped Dean take his place. Dean turned and reclined on the table, lifting his leg carefully. Sam slipped a pillow under it while the girls consulted on a diagnosis.

Britt came over and made sure Dean could see her before she started talking. "Looks like we were right. You have a displaced fracture of the fibula located just above your ankle. There is also a hairline fracture in the tibia in the same area." She pointed to the places on Dean's leg as she spoke, guessing that he might have a hard time with the medical terminology. "I'm going to have to set it before we cast it, so Cara's getting you some happy pills."

Dean nodded as he looked over to see Cara at the medicine cabinet. He had missed the technical terms, but he understood that it was broken and she was going to have to set it, which would hurt like hell.

Britt patted his good leg to get his attention. "Your ankle is going to be sore for a while, but it looks good. Because it's been a couple of days since the fracture, the bones have started to heal a little. That will make setting it a bit harder and more painful, but we'll dose you up good."

Dean gave a small smile. "You're good at that."

"I am, aren't I?" Britt teased. "I've only known you for 24 hours and I've already drugged you twice."

Cara brought over two pills and a cup of water. Dean tossed the pills in his mouth and swallowed them.

"We'll give those a few minutes to kick in before I start moving things around," Britt said as she sat on the edge of the table next to Dean.

There was silence for a minute before Cara spoke up. "I'm hungry," she announced, rising from her chair. "I'm going to raid your office for snacks," she told Britt as she left the room.

Dean hadn't realized Cara was talking, so her exit surprised him. Britt signed 'hungry' and grinned. Dean rubbed his stomach and nodded.

"Oh, you too?" she asked with a laugh. "Maybe Cara will bring enough to share."

As if on cue, Cara returned with a bag of Chex Mix she had found in Britt's desk drawer. She offered it around.

Dean ate a few bites before he felt the floaty haze start to set in. His eyelids drooped and he startled awake when Britt squeezed his shoulder.

"Hmm?" he questioned as he tried to focus on her.

"I was asking if you were ready for me to start, but I think I know the answer," she spoke and signed at the same time. Dean was grateful; in the druggy fog he wasn't sure he'd be able to read her lips.

"Mmmhmm," he answered as he blinked slowly. Britt moved out of his line of sight and he tried to sit up.

"Lay down," Sam said as he stood up and went to his brother's side. "I'll let you know what's going on."

Britt checked the x-rays again as she prepared to set the broken bone. Sam let Dean grasp his good hand as she manipulated the bone into place. Dean grimaced and squeezed Sam's hand tightly for a few moments until the pain subsided.

Dean finally relaxed and let out a breath. He released his grip on Sam's hand and shakily pushed up on his elbows.

"You done?" he asked quietly.

Britt nodded and smiled. "Done with the hard part. After a quick x-ray I just have to cast it and you'll be good to go."

"Can I sit up?" Dean asked. "I don't like not being able to see what's going on," he admitted.

"Sure," Britt said. "The worst is over, so I don't think we have to worry about you passing out now."

Sam used his good arm to pull Dean into a seated position and Cara adjusted the exam table to keep him propped up.

"Much better," he said as he leaned back. Cara went over to help Britt and Sam went back to his chair.

Using the portable x-ray, Britt took a couple of scans of the leg to ensure the bone was set correctly. She pulled up the images and studied them before nodding in approval.

Cara carefully held Dean's foot in position as Britt prepared to cast it. She picked up black fiberglass and held it up for Dean's approval.

He nodded and raised his eyebrows. "How'd you guess?"

"It matches your car," she said simply.

Sam burst out laughing. "Dude, she already knows about your unhealthy attachment to the Impala."

"Hey, don't talk about my baby like that," Dean admonished with mock scorn.

Britt rolled her eyes. "Oh, so you're one of those guys," she teased as she started wrapping the casting material around Dean's leg. Once it was done and the cast was dry, she gently pulled the sweatpants down over it.

"You're all set," she said as she cleaned up the casting supplies. "Anything else you need patched up while we're here?" she offered jokingly.

"I think I'm good," he said with a smile. He slowly started moving his leg over the edge of the table.

"Easy," Cara warned as she helped him lower the casted limb. Sam rose and together they helped Dean stand up. He was a bit unsteady from the medicine, so Sam kept a firm grip on him until he got his balance.

Britt handed him the crutches and they moved slowly out of the office. When they reached the 4Runner, Sam and Cara split off toward Cara's car to go to the OB appointment.


	16. Chapter 16

I've written through Chapter 20 and then I have a few disconnected one-shots that follow up. What would you like to see happen? Give me some ideas!

CHAPTER 16

Britt helped Dean settle into the passenger seat of the SUV. He reclined the seat a bit and laid his head back. The meds made him a little sleepy, but nothing like what they did to Sam. Despite his brother's enormous height, Sam was a lightweight. Britt got in and started the car.

"I have to go pick up my daughter at my parents' house. I'll drop you back at Cara's house," she said after squeezing Dean's knee to get his attention. Because she was driving, she spoke and threw in signs sporadically.

"Daughter?" he asked curiously.

Britt smiled. "Yeah, Caylee just turned four. She's staying with my parents for a few days to visit with her cousins. It's about 45 minutes each way, so I should be back in less than two hours, and Sam and Cara should be back around that time. You can rest." She paused. "Unless you want to ride along?"

Dean considered it. He was tired, but he was sick of lying in bed. He also had to admit that he wanted to spend more time with Britt.

"Yeah, it would be great to get out for a little while," he answered with a smile.

"Good," Britt replied with a matching smile. "If you want to sleep on the way there, feel free. I know those meds make you drowsy."

"I might," Dean said sleepily. "But you can't drop a bomb on me and leave it there. Tell me about Caylee."

"She's amazing," Britt answered proudly. "I'm a little biased, but I think she's perfect. She has blonde curls and big green eyes, and she's so smart. I've missed her so much, but she doesn't get to see her cousins very often and I had to work."

She trailed off for a moment before continuing.

"Her dad, Brian, was diagnosed with cancer a little over two years ago. It was aggressive and by the time we realized something was wrong it was too late. He lived about three months after that."

"I'm so sorry," Dean said. "That must have been horrible for you and Caylee."

"It was," Britt confirmed as she fought back tears. "I met Brian in college and we were best friends. We got married after med school and it was a huge mistake. About the time we figured out it wasn't working, it turned out that I was pregnant. We were better off as friends, so we went back to that, for Caylee's sake. Brian was a great dad." Her emotions finally got the best of her and she wiped the tears away. "Even though our marriage didn't work, Brian and I loved each other. It was devastating to lose him. The first few months were a blur. My mom stayed with us for a while and then I had to get back to real life. I didn't know how I was going to make it until Cara moved back a few months ago. She saved my sanity."

"I'm glad she was there for you," Dean said softly. "You shouldn't have had to go through that, especially not alone."

"Caylee was the only thing that mattered after Brian died. I knew I had to keep it together for her, and she is my life. I never imagined I could love someone as much as I love my little girl. I miss Brian, but I see him in Caylee's curls, her smile, and her look of concentration. The thing that hurts the most is that she lost a wonderful dad."

"She has a wonderful mom," Dean pointed out. "She's a lucky girl."

Britt smiled at him and Dean took her hand. His eyes were heavy and he drifted off, giving Britt a chance to get herself together. She couldn't believe that she had known Dean for less than 24 hours and had already shared her life story, but if anyone could understand tragedy and loss, she had a feeling it was Dean.

Dean dozed until he felt the car come to a stop. He roused as Britt shifted into park and unsnapped her seatbelt.

"Hey," she said. "We're here. I'm going to go see my mom and dad for a couple minutes and get Caylee. You want to stay here? I'm not sure you're up to the Grand Inquisition from my mom," she added with a smirk.

Dean chuckled. "Yeah, I'll pass on that. Take your time with your family."

Britt got out of the car and went in the house. Dean pulled his seat up a bit straighter and pulled out his phone to check in with Sam.

'Rode with Britt to pick up her daughter,' he texted. 'Meet you back at Cara's in an hour or so.'

A moment later, the response came in. 'Wow, meeting the family already?'

'Smartass,' Dean typed back. 'You don't have any room to talk since you're at the OB with your baby mama right now.'

'Fair enough. Haha. See you soon,' Sam answered.

The front door opened and Britt emerged from the house carrying a booster seat with a pink backpack slung over her shoulder. She was holding a little girl's hand. An attractive older lady stood in the doorway and Britt hugged her goodbye. Caylee turned and blew a kiss to her grandma before skipping happily next to Britt. When they reached the car, Britt winked at Dean through the windshield before gesturing to her mom.

Dean looked toward the door to see Britt's mother still there. She lifted her hand and waved at Dean with a knowing smile. He returned the gestures and she went inside. He turned to watch Britt and Caylee.

The back door opened and Caylee clambered in and got in her booster seat. She held tightly to a stuffed tiger. Britt tossed her backpack in the floor and buckled Caylee in. "Caylee, this is my friend Dean. He and his brother are staying with Aunt Cara. Can you say hi?"

Dean turned more in his seat to face the little girl. "Hey Caylee," he said softly.

"Hey," Caylee replied shyly. "You huwt you weg?"

Dean froze as he had trouble reading the little girl's lips. He wasn't used to being too far from Sam in these situations. Sensing Dean's discomfort, Britt quickly signed Caylee's question.

"Oh, you saw my crutches, huh?" he recovered. "Yeah, I hurt my leg and your mommy fixed it up for me."

"My mommy can fix anyfing," she assured him proudly. "She fixes my owies."

Dean grinned. He winked at Britt as she continued to interpret. "Your mommy is very special."

Caylee grinned back and Dean was amazed by the beautiful little girl. She had blonde curls that went halfway down her back and sparkling green eyes. Despite what Britt said earlier, her smile was just like Britt's and she obviously had inherited her size from her mom as well. She was a tiny thing.

Britt closed Caylee's door and got in the front seat. She turned on the DVD player in the back and soon Caylee was immersed in a movie.

"You're right," he said softly. "She's amazing."

It was Britt's turn to grin. "I know right?" she joked.

"What did you tell your mom?" Dean asked.

"I told her you were a friend of Cara's and that you rode with me to keep me company," Britt said innocently.

"Uh huh," Dean said teasingly. "And she believed that?" Britt laughed and Dean bit back a yawn.

Caylee began to chatter happily to her mom and Dean was so tired he couldn't follow. Britt noticed he had tuned out, so to speak.

"You want to lie back until we get home? Caylee has to update me on the events of the last few days, so we might not get a word in edgewise," she said with a smirk. "I'll let you know if she wants us to join the conversation."

Dean smiled and agreed. He let the seat back again and closed his eyes. If this was what 'normal' was like, he wanted it.


	17. Chapter 17

CHAPTER 17

They pulled into Cara's driveway and Britt woke Dean up. His leg was hurting and he didn't feel that great. As he sat up, Britt got out and opened Caylee's door. Dean watched as she unbuckled the little girl before placing her on the ground with instructions to get Aunt Cara to come get the food.

"Food?" he asked groggily when Britt got to his door. His stomach was growling.

"Wow, you were out. I stopped and picked up some pasta for dinner," she said as she held his crutches. Dean got out of the car carefully and waited a moment for the throbbing in his ankle to subside.

"You're hurting," Britt said.

Dean nodded. "It's throbbing and I'm pretty wiped out." He leaned heavily on the crutches for a moment before he was ready to move.

"Your meds have worn off too," Britt pointed out.

Cara came out of the house and retrieved the bags of food before she helped Britt get Dean into the house. He made it to the living room and all but collapsed on the couch. Britt propped his leg on a pillow on the ottoman and palmed his forehead.

"I'm okay," he assured her. "Just tired."

Cara brought him a pain pill with some water and returned to help Britt get the food ready. Sam came and sat by him on the couch.

"You okay?" Sam half-signed (as much as he could with one functioning hand).

"I will be," Dean answered. "My leg hurts and I'm tired, but I'll be fine. How was the appointment?"

Sam grinned as he reached toward the end table. "It was amazing. Look." He handed Dean a small stack of black and white pictures.

"Wow," Dean breathed. They were 4-D ultrasound photos of Sam and Cara's baby.

"I know," Sam said. "It's real. She's real. Seeing her freaked me out a little at first, I'll admit, but now I'm just amazed. That's our little girl."

Dean was amazed, too. He could see the baby's features and it looked like she was sucking her thumb. His niece was perfect.

"Wow," he said again. "I don't know what else to say. Well, besides that she obviously got her good looks from her Uncle Dean."

Sam shot him a bitchface before grinning. "She's perfect, Dean. The doctor said everything looked really good and she's right on track for her due date. Our little girl will be here in about eight weeks."

"That's great, Sammy," he said genuinely. "I can't wait to meet her."

The girls returned with plates of food and drinks for them all. Caylee cowered timidly behind Britt as she peeked at the strange men in the room.

"Hey Caylee," Dean said gently. "Did you meet Sam?"

The little girl shook her head as she looked skeptically at the big man.

"Sammy's my little brother," Dean told her. "I know he looks big and scary," he said in a conspiratorial whisper, "but he's my baby brother." He winked at her.

Caylee smiled. "He's not a baby," she said. "He's weally big. Bigger than you."

"I know," Dean said. He grinned at Britt, who was prepared to sign if needed, but he was doing okay for now. "Sam ate lots of vegetables and grew up big and strong."

Caylee giggled as she came out from behind Britt.

"Hey Caylee," Sam said with a smile. "I'm Sam."

"Hey Sam," she said back. "Are you Aunt Cawa's fwiend?" He glanced at Cara.

Cara and Britt had all the food on the coffee table and Cara came to sit on the couch by Sam.

"Come here, sweetie," Cara said as she pulled Caylee up into her lap. "Remember when we talked about the baby, and we said that Baby Baby's daddy had a really important job to do and couldn't be here?"

Dean looked questioningly at Britt and mouthed "Baby Baby?" She signed "later" and winked at him.

Caylee nodded seriously. Cara continued. "Well, Sam is Baby Baby's daddy and he doesn't have to work after all. He's going to be here with us from now on."

The little girl was pensive as she looked at Sam. "Are you going to mawwy Aunt Cawa?"

Britt looked embarrassed. "Caylee – "

"No, it's okay," Sam assured her. "Yes, Caylee, I would love to marry your aunt. Is that okay with you?"

"Yes," Caylee said decisively. "Baby Baby thinks it's okay too."

The adults shared a quiet laugh. Britt decided to explain.

"When we told Caylee that Cara was having a baby she wanted to know its name. We told her the baby didn't have a name yet, so she wanted to call it Baby Boy or Baby Girl. Cara didn't know the gender yet, so Caylee started calling her Baby Baby and it stuck."

"I like it," Sam said. "It's catchy."


	18. Chapter 18

Okay, we're getting close to chapter 20 and I'm starting to panic because I haven't figured out where to go from there Send me ideas!

CHAPTER 18

Britt had chosen chicken alfredo pasta from a local pizza place and it was delicious. Sam had two helpings and Dean ate everything on his plate. Even Caylee put away a good bit. They cleared the plates and Sam helped Dean up so he could go to the bathroom. Dean still felt pretty bad so Britt had him stretch out on the couch with his head in her lap. Cara sensed that they needed some time, so she asked Caylee to go with her and Sam on an ice cream run. Caylee enthusiastically agreed.

Neither Dean nor Britt could explain what was going on between them. It was like there was an invisible force pulling them together. They'd only met yesterday, but here in this moment it felt so natural. Dean relaxed as Britt combed her fingers through his hair.

"I'm sorry you feel so bad," she said with a look of sympathy.

"I think I just overdid it," Dean replied. "It was nice to be up and around, but it was too much too soon. This helps though."

"Glad I can help," she said with a small smile.

"Just being near you makes me feel better," Dean admitted. "I don't want to freak you out by confessing my deep, dark secrets too soon, but I never imagined I'd meet anyone like you."

Britt fought past the lump in her throat to answer. "I never imagined I could fall for someone so fast - and honestly, it scares the hell out of me - but I'm falling for you, Dean. I'm not that girl, the one who falls hard and fast, but there's something about you. I feel like you're what I've been missing."

Dean reached up to stroke Britt's cheek. "I think I fell for you when you first came through the guest room door to threaten me to stay in bed," he said with a smirk as he pulled Britt's face down for a kiss. They kept it pretty tame due to Dean's injuries and only pulled apart when they heard car doors slam outside.

The door opened and Caylee came running in with Cara and Sam on her heels. "We bwought you some ice cweam!" she said excitedly as she handed Britt a cup of strawberry ice cream.

"Thank you baby," Britt said with a laugh.

"Aunt Cawa has yours, Dean," she said. "I couldn't cawwy Mommy's and mine and yours all at the same time."

Cara handed over a cup of chocolate ice cream. "Wow, thanks Caylee!" he said with a smile. "How did you know chocolate was my favorite?"

"It's my favowite too. And Sam helped a wittle," she said with a smile toward the larger man.

"Thanks Sammy," Dean said with a wink at his little brother.

Caylee eagerly dug into her ice cream and the adults followed suit. Baby Baby started kicking and Caylee was excited to get to feel her "cousin" moving. After a silent conversation with Sam, Cara got up and came over to Dean.

"You want to say hello, Uncle Dean?" she said with a smile.

Dean grinned and sat up, propping on his elbow. Cara placed his hand on the spot on her belly. His eyes widened in awe when he felt the movement.

"Hey little girl," he said, trying to keep his voice steady. "You are a lucky baby. You're going to have a great family to take care of you, and, of course, the coolest uncle ever."

They all laughed and he lay back down. "That is amazing. She's a strong little girl."

"She's a Winchester," Sam said with a laugh. "What would you expect?"

"Good point," he agreed as he finished up his ice cream. Caylee had ice cream all over her face and was licking the last drop off the spoon. He looked up at Britt.

"You've got a sticky mess there," he said, amused. "You don't have to stay. Take Caylee home and spend some time with your girl."

"Are you sure?" Britt asked.

"I'm positive. I'll probably go to bed soon anyway," he said.

"Okay," Britt said. "Text me if you need anything."

"I will," Dean assured her. "I'll be fine." He leaned up and she stood, placing a pillow under his head.

"Come on, Caylee," she said as she picked up the ice cream cups. "It's bath time for you, baby girl. Go grab your tiger and tell Aunt Cara and Sam and Dean good night."

"Okay, Mommy," Caylee said happily as she ran off.

Britt leaned down and kissed Dean. "Sleep well," she whispered. "I'll see you in the morning."

"I look forward to it. Good night," Dean replied with a smile as he pulled her back for another kiss.

Britt turned to Cara. She ignored the knowing smirks she and Sam had, and said, "You might want to give Dean something before he goes to bed. He had nightmares last night, and I know he'll be hurting after having that leg set today."

"Got it," Cara answered. "We'll take good care of him."

Caylee ran back in and gave everyone hugs before she and Britt headed out. Cara got up and walked them out, leaving Sam and Dean in the living room.

Dean's eyes were closed, but he was smiling.

Sam shook his head fondly.


	19. Chapter 19

CHAPTER 19

Sam roused at the sound of Dean's voice. He and Cara had started watching a movie on TV and both had drifted off. He blinked a few times and realized that Dean was squirming uncomfortably on the couch, moaning and muttering. He carefully shifted Cara off his shoulder and got up to go to his brother. He pulled up the ottoman and sat down beside Dean.

"No," Dean whimpered. "I can't – I don't know. Please." A sheen of sweat had broken out on his face and his fists were clenched tightly in the blanket Cara had draped over him after he had fallen asleep.

"Stop, I swear I don't know," Dean murmured. "Sammy, help me."

"I'm here, Dean," Sam said as he put his hand on Dean's bicep. He squeezed twice, hoping Dean would respond to their "secret" code. He didn't want to alarm his brother any more than he already was.

Dean continued to struggle. He moaned as he thrashed about, accidentally jostling his leg and knocking it off the pillows that Britt had it propped on. Dean's eyes flew open with a gasp of pain at the impact on his broken leg.

"Shit, Dean," Sam whispered as he tried to calm his brother. He moved into Dean's sightline and touched his face gently. "Hey, look at me. You're okay. You're out."

Dean's eyes searched Sam's face for a moment and he nodded. His body relaxed and his breathing evened out. Cara emerged, seemingly from nowhere, with a glass of water.

"Thanks," Sam said with a smile. He helped Dean take a couple of sips.

She squeezed Sam's shoulder comfortingly. "Try to get him to talk," she advised. "It might help with the nightmares." She leaned down and kissed his temple. "Let me know when he's ready for bed so we can get him some medicine."

Sam nodded. Dean was awake now, but the emotional strain was taking a toll. Sam could see the terror in his eyes.

"Dean," he said when his brother was looking at him. "We need to talk about –"

"No," Dean said softly. "I can't, Sam."

"You have to. This is killing you. We have to get past this and the only way to move on is to talk about it. I'm having nightmares, too, so I can only imagine that yours are a thousand times worse. As much as I know you don't want to have to relive it, I have to know what happened back there so that we can both start to heal."

Dean looked at his brother warily.

"Please?" Sam asked softly, rubbing his open palm in a circle over his heart.

After a moment Dean sighed and then nodded in agreement. "I'm still fuzzy on some of the details, but I'll tell you what I remember."

Flashback

Dean cursed as he finished putting the spare tire on his baby. He tightened the last lug nut and placed the tire iron on the ground beside him. He lowered the jack and placed it back in the trunk before returning to get the last of his tools. Just as he leaned down to pick up the tire iron, an arm snaked around his neck. Despite his fighting skills, he had been caught off guard and it only took a moment for his attacker to choke him out. Dean's body slumped into unconsciousness.

When he awoke, he was slumped in a chair. His hands were bound tightly behind him and a blindfold covered his eyes. He could feel the vibrations in the floor that indicated at least one person moving around in the room. He lifted his head slowly and waited.

After a moment, a sharp jab to his gut doubled him over. "What the hell?" he asked as he coughed and straightened back up. "Warn a guy, huh?"

The next strike to his jaw knocked him out of the chair. He crashed to the floor and laid there as more blows rained down on him.

"Wait," he gasped. "I don't know what you want. Take off the blindfold and even the score a little."

A knife quickly cut through his shirts and a long gash was carved on his chest.

He panted through the pain. "Stop. I'm not screwing with you. I'm deaf, alright?"

Dean waited to see if his confession had any effect. It didn't.

"I can't hear you. If you grabbed me for information, you'll get a lot farther if you take off the blindfold. I can read lips."

A boot connected with his lower back and then they were gone. He lay there on the floor for a few minutes riding out the agony. Once it had subsided, he awkwardly sat up, pulling on the restraints on his wrists. They seemed to be zip ties, so the chances of getting out of them were slim.

He pressed the palm of one hand to the wooden floor, feeling for vibrations. When he felt none, he slowly worked himself to his feet and took small steps forward. When he met the wall, he followed it around until he got to a door. He took a deep breath. This was a less than ideal situation, the deaf guy bound and blindfolded, but he had to get away. He had to find some way to get back to Sam.

He slowly opened the door and slipped through. He had only taken a couple of steps when he felt the vibrations coming toward him.

"Shit!" he cursed aloud as hands roughly grabbed him and dragged him back into the room. He was thrown on the floor and blinding pain shot through his ankle. One of the bastards had stomped it.

"Please," he panted. "I don't know what you want. M'brother will be looking for me and he's going to kill you."

A zip tie was pulled tight around his ankles and he cried out in pain again.

"Stop. Please," he begged as kicks rained down on his legs and torso. "I swear, I don't know. I can't hear you." His voice dropped to a whisper. "Sam."

A rag was forced into his mouth and tied tightly. He choked back a sob at the desperation coursing through him. He struggled with his bonds, but that only made the pain worse. He felt the tears escape as he prayed that Sam would find him.

For the next few days, Dean was cut and beaten, all the while not having any idea what the men wanted. They removed the gag a few times and he would beg for water, he'd call out for Sam, for Cas. He'd plead for mercy and then they'd shove it back into his mouth.

By the third day his fight was gone. He was extremely weakened from the dehydration and his injuries, and he wasn't sure how much more he could take. When the men returned and once again began to pummel his already aching body, he slipped into unconsciousness.

When he awoke, he wasn't tied up anymore. He was warm and he could feel a familiar rumble beneath him. The Impala. The car came to a stop and Sam was there, grabbing his hand and giving him the "I'm-trying-to-be-comforting-but-you-scared-the-hell-out-of-me" face. Somehow he had done it. Sam had rescued him.

Present

By the time he was finished with the story, both brothers were openly crying. Sam helped Dean sit up and then pulled him close, holding him tightly despite both of their injuries. After a moment, Dean pulled himself together and sat back, wiping the tears from his face.

Sam swiped at his face and cleared his throat.

"Y'know, I was talking to Britt earlier," he began, "and she said something that stuck with me. She said that almost losing someone you love is terrifying, but that we can't keep torturing ourselves with what could have happened. It's over and we made it through. That's worth celebrating."

Dean gave a small smile. "She's a smart woman," he said softly. "And you're right. I know it's not going to be instantly better, but we need to focus on the good. We're here together, we're out of that life, and we get to have a happy ending."

Sam nodded in agreement and yawned.

"Let's go to bed," Dean suggested with a smirk as he echoed his brother's yawn.

"Sounds like a plan to me," Sam said. "Let me go get the woman with the meds."

He pushed himself up and headed towards Cara's room. He entered the room to find her pacing nervously.

"How did it go?" she asked as she rushed to Sam and grabbed his hand.

"It was rough, but I think it was for the best. We got everything out there and now maybe we can both start to get past it. Cara, what those bastards did –" he cut off, unable to continue.

"Oh, sweetie," Cara said in sympathy as she pulled him close.

"But something good came of this," Sam said resolutely. "Dean and I are done with the business. We're retiring, effective immediately."

Cara gasped. "Sam, are you sure? You don't have to –"

"Yes we do. We've been doing this job for so long, constantly taking risks and making sacrifices. We found out this morning that we can get out and they're giving us a nice settlement. They appreciate the job we've done and they've set things up for us so that we can settle down and live our lives however we choose. And I choose you."

Cara kissed him passionately as tears streamed down her face. "I know we haven't known each other very long, but no one has ever made me as happy as you have. Even all those months ago, I knew you were special. We went into it expecting one night, but that would never have been enough. We must have an angel watching out for us."

"You have no idea," Sam muttered as he held her close. "I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you and our daughter."

"Let's get married," Cara said, pulling back to look into his eyes. "Soon."

"Before the baby comes?" Sam asked.

"Yes," Cara answered resolutely. "I want our little girl to be a Winchester. I want us to all be Winchesters together."

"I like the sound of that," Sam said with a smile. "As soon as Dean is well enough, we'll go make it official."

Cara beamed at him. "Come on," she said. "Dean's probably given up on us."

She pulled him out of the room and they went back to the living room. Dean had lowered his leg to the floor and was relaxed back into the cushions of the couch. He had apparently run out of steam at that point.

"Where've you two been?" he asked, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

Sam rolled his eyes. "If you must know, I was telling Cara our good news."

"Good news?" Dean questioned.

"Yeah, about retiring and the settlement we're getting. I told her we're out and we're going to be settling down here."

"Oh yeah, the settlement," Dean said as he caught on to Sam's story. "It's a nice package."

"That's what I hear," Cara said. "We have some good news, too." She looked at Sam, knowing he should be the one to tell his brother.

"Wait, let me guess," Dean said. "You're having a baby?"

"Such a smartass," Sam said. "Yes, and we decided to get married. Soon, we hope...as soon as you're feeling better. I can't get married without my big brother by my side."

"Congratulations," Dean said with a genuine smile. "And I would be honored to be your best man." He extended his hand both for a congratulatory handshake and help getting up from the couch. As soon as he was up, he gave Sam a brotherly hug before hugging Cara a bit more gently.

"Welcome to the family," he told her with a smile. "No refunds or exchanges."

They laughed as Dean got his crutches and they headed for the guest room. Cara went to retrieve the medicine while Sam helped Dean take off his shirt and sweatpants before climbing into bed. Cara returned with a syringe.

"After tonight we'll go with pills, but since you've had so much activity today, I think the injection will be better. You'll get good sleep and it should keep the pain at bay all night."

Dean nodded. He knew it was unlike him not to protest the "good stuff," but he knew that the best way to heal was to accept the help and get as much rest as possible.

"Lay it on me," he said with a smirk.

Sam handed him his phone. "The message light is blinking like crazy," Sam said. "Wonder who it could be…"

Dean grinned and then flinched as the needle slid in his arm with a pinch. Sam walked around the bed and pulled back the covers on the other side.

"What are you doing?" Dean asked, stretching his arm out across the bed territorially.

"I'm getting ready to get in bed," Sam said, stating the obvious.

"This is my bed," Dean informed him.

"Dean, seriously –" Sam began.

"No," Dean said resolutely. "Go sleep with your fiancée."

Sam glanced at Cara who gave him an encouraging smile.

"You're always welcome to the other guest room," she said innocently.

"Oh no," Sam said quickly. "I'm not sleeping alone anymore."


	20. Scars

Okay, so this isn't a "real" chapter but I like it. This is a little snapshot that actually fits nicely in the timeline here. There's been a good bit of Dean and Britt, so here's some Sam and Cara.

I'm working on the next couple of chapters, but I'm not speeding through it. Sorry to leave you hanging!

SCARS

Sam lay on his back, sleeping peacefully with his good arm around Cara. She had woken up to the feel of the baby kicking a few minutes earlier and she had been enjoying the quiet and feeling their baby moving inside her. She fixed the strap of Sam's sling where it had gotten twisted before trailing her fingers across to a small round scar on his shoulder. It was a bullet wound and it appeared to be a few years old.

"Flesh wound," Sam verified quietly. She didn't realize he had woken up. "We were in a standoff with a suspect and she shot me to distract Dean."

"Did it work?" Cara asked as she pressed a kiss to the scar.

"Temporarily," Sam answered. "She got away from us but her past caught up with her a few months later."

Her fingers moved down to a long, faded scar on Sam's abdomen.

"Grazed by a knife," Sam said as Cara kissed that scar, too.

She quirked up an eyebrow as she pointed to his anti-possession tattoo.

"Drunk," he said in explanation. "Dean has one too. It was alcohol-related brotherly bonding."

Cara laughed. "That's attractive."

Sam grinned.

Cara's smile fell when she traced her fingers over a thin pink scar the inside of his forearm. It was more recent and she had seen one like it on his broken arm when she set it. "You have one of these on each arm," she noted quietly.

Sam nodded. "I was captured on a job. Before Dean got to me, they had sliced my arms and gouged a place in my side. The nutjobs wanted my blood," he said grimly.

Cara shuddered. "You've been hurt too much," she said as she touched his face. "I'm glad you're not going back to that life."

"Me too," Sam said honestly. "There have been too many close calls."

"No one should have this many scars," she said quietly as she snuggled close to him. "Are there more? I don't want to be surprised later."

Sam mentally inspected his body, cataloging a lifetime of minor cuts, scratches, and wounds in addition to several more major ones.

"Just one," he said. He pressed a kiss to Cara's forehead before he moved his arm from underneath her to sit up.

He was quiet as Cara examined his back. He heard the sharp intake of breath as her fingers brushed the faded knot of scar tissue at the base of his spine.

"Sam," she whispered and he turned to pull her into his arms as tears fell down her cheeks.

"I'm okay," he said softly as he held her tightly. "It was bad, really bad, but I'm okay now."

She nodded against his chest as the sobs ripped through her. Sam just held her, knowing the hormones were intensifying her emotions, and letting her process it all. He had had several years to get used to the idea that his scar would be a constant reminder of the day that Dean saved Sam's life by literally giving his own, that his brother had resigned himself to an eternity in hell to save Sam. He and Dean had made peace with the situation and now he would give Cara time to make peace with it, too.

After a few moments, Cara pulled back and wiped her face. "As a doctor, I look at that scar and all I see is paralysis or death. I don't know what happened, but I am so grateful that you're here with me right now, whole and healthy."

Sam relaxed against the headboard and pulled Cara to his side. He wouldn't give her all the details, obviously, but she deserved an explanation. "About 4 years ago I was working an undercover investigation. I had… infiltrated a crime organization and the boss had chosen me and four others in the group for an elite position. Little did we know that we would be expected to fight for it. Literally. He whisked us away to a secluded location and told us that he was looking for the "best and brightest" to lead his new division. He called it a competition and said that only one of us could make it out alive."

He paused a moment before continuing. "At first, everyone agreed to work together, that we'd fight this and find a way out – all of us. It didn't take long before it was every man for himself though. It got down to me and a guy named Jake. He was a soldier, a man of honor it seemed, and he had saved me when one of the others got the jump on me. We made a truce and I made the mistake of trusting him. We were walking toward the road when Dean got there. He called my name and I was so glad to see him that I turned my back on the enemy."

"I remember seeing Dean and feeling such a huge sense of relief, and then pain. The last thing I remember is Dean running toward me as I collapsed."

He closed his eyes for a moment, remembering the fire in his spine and hearing Dean plead with him, sobbing and clutching at Sam's shirt.

After a shaky breath, he went on. "When I woke up Dean was there. He had obviously been crying and I could see the worry melt from his eyes when he saw that I was awake. I finally convinced him to tell me what had happened. Jake had stabbed me, intending to sever my spine. Dean interceded before he had a chance to finish the job. He and Jake struggled before Jake got away. By the time he got back to me, my heart had stopped."

"He saved me. Dean literally saved my life but it almost cost him his. He felt like it was his fault and made some bad decisions. I healed physically, but Dean went through hell and I was afraid I had lost him. It was well over a year before we were both okay again."

Remembering the months spent without his brother made his stomach churn. Despite all the tragedy and horror of their lives, that was definitely the hardest year the brothers had experienced. Sam had glossed over the worst part, but Cara couldn't know about that part of their life. It was better this way.

Cara wiped her face again, removing the evidence of her silent tears. She didn't know how to respond to this. Sam had died - his heart had actually stopped - and even all these years later it scared her to think that she could have lost him before she had even met him.

"I love you so much," she said as she looked into his pain-filled eyes. "I'm so glad you weren't taken away before I had the chance to find you."

"I love you, too" he said as he swallowed the lump in his throat. "It still catches up with me every now and then and the pain – both physical and emotional – becomes real again. Dean doesn't like to talk about that time. In a lot of ways it was harder on him and it took years for him to get past the nightmares. I just hope that I never take him for granted. I would definitely have died that day if it weren't for him."

"You are lucky to have him," Cara said, "and he is lucky to have you."

"We're all we've got," he said. "Well, at least until recently," he added with a smile.

"Now you have us," Cara said as she placed his hand on her belly. "Dean has Britt and Caylee and we all have a family."

"The Winchester family," Sam said with a chuckle. "I never thought I'd see that happen."

Cara smiled, too, and kissed him. "Does it still hurt?"

Sam nodded. "Sometimes, especially if the weather is bad or if I've overdone it. It's something I've learned to live with."

"Well now you don't have to live with it alone," Cara promised as she curled into him.


End file.
